A Company Affair
by Svendances
Summary: Well, Peigi's all grown up and working for her father. When a coworker can't keep his mouth shut tight everything just becomes a little overwhelming. Rated T for insinuations in the penultimate chapter
1. The Morning

_A/N: I've been working on this story for a while now, just trying to get the introduction perfect, and well, I haven't quite made it perfect, but if I tweak it any more it's going to fall apart, so I decided to post it. _

_Disclaimer: Most of the Characters aren't mine, a few of them are, but the world they are living in is the property of Janet. I am simply taking them out for icecream. :)_

**A Company Affair**

**Chapter 1: The Morning**

My morning is perfectly timed down to the minute. At five thirty my alarm sounds, blaringly loud right next to my head and my hand shoots out without thought and hits the snooze button. Exactly seven minutes later I am again woken from my slumber by the infernal racket on my nightstand. This time I hit the off button, stumble out of bed and into a pair of running shorts and a sports bra. I move to the dressing table pull a brush through my hair straight brown and shove it into a pony tail and under a cap. Grabbing a previously prepared drink bottle off the side table in the hall at five-forty-five I head out onto my front lawn to stretch. Five minutes later I am pounding the pavement on my way to the high school where I do thirty laps of the oval at a run, taking me an hour. I then slow to a jog and make my way back home. It takes seventeen minutes to jog home from the school, I then stand under the spray of the shower for half an hour until I'm sure all the sweat is gone and my shoulders have relaxed.

At seven-forty-four I shut off the shower and wrap a towel around my body and hair. Making my way through to the kitchen I flick the kettle on to boil and slide a waffle into the toaster before returning to my bedroom to do the hair thing. There's not a lot I can to with my hair, so I brush it and put it back into a ponytail. At seven forty-nine the toaster pops and the kettle boils, I realise that there isn't enough water in the kettle and add some more and set it to re boil again while I dress and eat my waffle. When I'm through in the kitchen, having had two cups of coffee, it is eight-thirteen and I return to my bedroom to choose clothes for the day. It's such a hard decision; I have to decide between shorts or long pants; that takes me three minutes. When I've made that decision I then have to decide between cargoes or business. With that sorted I move onto the top half where it gets a little trickier; long sleeves, short sleeves, no sleeves, then business or street, then depending on whether I choose business or street I may then have to choose between polo or t-shirt. Luckily the colour is already sorted, otherwise I may never have made it out of the bedroom and to work. Everything was black and embroidered with the company logo, Rangeman, (also in black.) This seemingly simply task takes exactly thirty-three minutes. Having chosen actual clothes I then have to make a choice regarding my foot covering, boots, sneakers or dress shoes. Usually the outfit I choose makes with decision, which cuts back on time significantly.

So when ten to nine rolls around I'm strapping on my gun in its holster, cell phone, and key fob and realising that I have not yet put my face on. Running short on time I swipe on some smoky eye shadow and a couple coats of confidence, (this was a trait I had inherited from my mother.) I glance at the clock at five to nine and hastily grab my lip gloss and run to my car. Stuck at a red light at eight-fifty-seven I don my lip gloss in the rear view mirror, chucking the tube to the seat when the lights change. The clock rolls over to three minutes past nine as I pull into my parking space and climb out. I hit the button for the elevator three times at intervals of two seconds before abandoning it and taking the stairs to the fourth floor.

I sit down at my desk at exactly five past nine, which also happens to be five minutes late, at the very moment when my coffee is set down next to my mouse pad. I thank the office assistant, whose name I can never remember, and open my email. After five minutes of perusing the usual boring reminders.

So there you have it, my morning routine in a nutshell.

My name is Peigi Anne Manoso and I work for my father's security/bond enforcement company, Rangeman. I've worked here officially since I was fourteen, but unofficially I've been working here since I was three, I think it was safe to say that I knew this place inside and out. I had to work my way up through the scunge ladder, but last year, on my twenty-fourth birthday I was awarded a spot on the A-team. Not far behind me was Sean Brown, better known as Sonar, he's the son of one Dad's original A-team members, Bobby, whom I've known since before I remember. It was no secret that Sonar and I were an item, but we tried to keep things professional in the building.

I still remember the day Sonar and I met, back then he still went by Sean though. It wasn't long after Dad had put me on the payroll during my summer vacation when Bobby came into work exclaiming that his son had been kidnapped. Personally I didn't even know that Bobby had a son, I guess he was just secretive like the rest of them. Most of the employees had been sent to search and I was left in the building to man the phones and monitors with just mum. Mum didn't like that she had been left behind, but had learned to accept things as they came and I followed her lead.

So we were the only ones in the entire building all that day until the night fill guys came in a seven. Mum drove me home, picking up Emmet from his friends house on the way and fixed us dinner. Dad arrived home a little after ten to inform us that there was no sign of him yet. We went to bed and the next day did it all over again, except Emmet was with us. Just the three of us sitting around staring at a bunch of screens all day. We were still hanging around at eight o'clock when one of the search teams burst in with what I assumed to be the kidnapper and the kidnapped. They split up when they reached the control room, two of them going to the conference room with the kidnapped and two of them going to the isolation chamber with the kidnapper.

The moment they entered the room, we all sprang into action, hurrying to the kitchen to grab a bowl of hot water and a face washer. I trailed after her grabbing two juice boxes and protein bars from the cupboard. Emmet was bringing up the rear with the first aid kit. It was safe to say that we were efficient.

As mum set to work cleaning up the boy who looked to be around my age, I offered him a juice box and protein bar. He accepted them gratefully, mumbling something about not having eaten in two days. As he ate and drank I opened the other juice box for myself and drank it. When he finished his he was eyeing off the other protein bar.

"Would you like it?" I asked him. He nodded, not meeting my eyes and took from the table when I told him to. "What happened?" I asked as Mum stretched bandaids over the cuts on his legs.

He looked uncomfortable for several moments and I thought he wasn't going to answer me, but eventually he did. From there we just kept talking until Bobby arrived.

The next holidays, Sean took on a part time job at Rangeman, doing pretty much the same thing as I was and we got to know each other really well. Now here we were ten year on and we were an item. I tell you, it was fate that he was kidnapped. I wouldn't have wished it upon him, but it did bring about the best friendship either of us had ever known.

As I finished up with my emails my desk phone rang, and I knew exactly who it would be. Trying desperately to suppress the smile that was threatening to climb onto my face I picked up the receiver and made my greeting, "Welcome to Rangeman, Peigi Manoso speaking, how may I help you?"

"You're late," came Sean's reply, a hint of laughter in his voice. "And you knew it was me calling, Peigi."

"Yes I did, but I can't get it to you at the moment," I teased. He was on field today so it was okay for him to be free with his words, but I had to watch what I said.

"I just called to ask what you were doing for dinner tonight, I thought maybe you wanted to get together?"

"Yes I'm free then." Sometimes conversations got complicated when you were holding them in a crowded office.

"I'll pick you up at eight then," he said, laughing a little.

"I'll pencil you in so I don't forget," I assured him.

"Wear something nice," he told me.

"Okay, thank you for that. I'll see you then." With that I hung up and turned my attention to actual work. I fired up a search engine for a background check and history on my latest case and sipped my coffee. While the search ran I checked through my inbox. Again, it was just the usual stuff, a couple of quick cases for the week, a request for a progress report on a long running case, and right at the bottom a message from my mother. It was short and highly illegible to anyone without years of practice, I could read it just fine.

"_Peigi, Lunch, Seventh floor, 11.30, Love Mum."_ I smiled with affection. My mother was one of the few people in the building who did not use the twenty-four hour clock. I, myself, slipped in and out of the habit, having grown up with my mother using civilian times and my father using army times. It could get confusing, but most of the men were used to it by now.

_Well I hope you like it so far. It's been bugging me, so I appreciate any feedback you can give me. Don't forget to review!_


	2. Lunch

_It was great to hear all the sentimental feelings you got with Piegi all grown up. It was a real encouragement to write more. So, naturally here is the second chapter for you enjoyment. Treat it right and there will be more to come._

**A Company Affair**

**Chapter 2: Lunch**

Time passes slowly on complete office days. I wasn't allowed to leave the building until knock off time unless there was an emergency, which there rarely was when I was stuck in here. It had been weeks since I had spent any length of time with my mother and I was actually looking forward to hearing all about everything, if only the clock would hurry up and tick over to eleven twenty-five so I could make my getaway.

I filled in the time running a couple of searches while I completed last week's reports. The whole reason we had complete office days was so that our paper work would not be forgotten. The way it worked was half the shift have their office day n Friday and do field work on Monday and the other half do field work on Friday and office work on Monday. The rest of the week is field or office at the discretion of the individual. It wasn't always the same groups that we were divided into on these days, thankfully. We tried to mix it up as much as we could so that everyone had experience working with everyone else; it just really sucked when Sean and I were separated. We were like two peas in a pod, fighting a world of hunger; we could do it separately, but got the job done twice as fast and efficiently together.

Since we had climbed up the ladder of success together, we were partners, when they didn't split us up for office days, that is. We didn't need words to communicate most of the time, and hand signals were often abandoned also; we simply knew what the other was thinking. I spoke to mum about it once and she told me that's how her and Dad have been ever since he opened up to her.

The funny thing about my father is that all the men fear him, especially the new ones, but when you take him away from the workplace he's just like every other dad on the block. He wears an apron that's says "Dad's Kitchen" when he's barbequing. He carves the meat off the bone when we have roasts. And he's the most loving, caring and open guy possible. As soon as he enters the garage, however, it's like something snaps into place in his brain, and instantly he's sporting an air of authority, a blank face and a commanding tone.

When we're at work he's not Ricardo Carlos Manoso, my loving father, the one who had signed my permission slips for schools excursions; he is Ranger, the bad ass ex-mercenary with years of Special Forces training who owns the entire company and is, of course, in charge. Anything he says, goes. Within the building even I must refer to him as Ranger. I learnt the consequences quite early on.

I remember the day as if it were yesterday. I had been called into his office to run an errand for him about three months after my official welcome to the company. When I entered I made the mistake of asking, "You wanted to see me, Dad?"

He had glared at me for a moment before his blank face slid down. "There is no 'Dad' here, Peigi," he had informed me. "On the floor we are not related. You are just another employee." Except everyone knew that I wasn't just another employee and we were related. Thanks to Dad's attitude, though, I didn't get a lot of special treatment, thank God. Mostly it was just that if we knew the suspect was armed I wasn't allowed to enter the building first. Usually I was second, which meant it was my job to call emergency services when the guy in front of me got shot, stabbed, burned, hit in the head with a baseball bat, or what ever else happened. I didn't even have to go through the normal processes anymore, central control had my cell number on Caller ID under "All hell broke loose in Trenton" and put me straight through to the nearest hospital to get an ambulance sent out. It was kind of scary actually.

I was glad Dad thought to not treat me differently, don't get me wrong, it means the world to me. I get to be just like everyone else; but sometimes, lately especially, he forgets that I am still his daughter and that the things he says can affect me a little more than the rest of the men. For example just the other day, during the morning meeting he asked for a progress report on the skip that I had been assigned and I told him that he was back behind bars he simply nodded and moved on to ask Gizmo about his. When Gizmo told 'Ranger' that his skip was locked up tight he was given a slap on the back and a "Good job". Now I don't mean to brag, but my skip was a damn sight more difficult and I did have him back with in the day, and what did I get? NOTHING! He doesn't get that there's a difference between not favouring me and treating me different to the others, because while, yes, he was not showing any favouritism me, he was still treating me different. If it had been anyone else to bring in that skip they would have gotten a slap on the back and a world of praise.

This is why I am thankful that Mum still works here as well. She's the one who keeps him in check. We have lunch once a month so that I can keep her updated on all the things Dad has done to piss me off, and she can keep me updated on all the things Dad says I have done to make him proud. Usually the two pots of information mix and end up being the same situation, which I suppose, turns down the heat in my, "Dad is trying ruin my self esteem" rant.

As I entered the seventh floor apartment my nostrils were filled with the heavenly scent of my all time favourite food, Chicken-Chilli-Cheese Nacos! I know what you're thinking; "What the hell is a naco?" Right? Well, for those of you who have been deprived of the Disney animated series, Kim Possible, a naco is a cross between a Taco and a Nacho, created by Ron Stoppable. After watching a three-hour marathon of the show one Saturday afternoon, Mum and I decided to try to recreate the fictional food, with great success. You take a soft taco shell, fill it with your favourite filling, (in my case Chicken-chilli-cheese) add some nacho chips and fold artfully.

I swear; my mother is a woman wanting nothing more than to make me happy. I had been craving the delicious foodstuff for a week and BAM there it was on the table waiting for me to eat it for lunch. Mum came out of the kitchen with a bottle of Mountain Dew and two cups with a smile plastered on her face.

"I thought I heard a stomach growl," she said, setting the drink and cups on the table and coming to hug me.

As she embraced me I felt as much as heard her stomach growl and laughed. "You mean another stomach."

We broke apart, still laughing and she put her hand to her stomach. "That too." Wasting no time, we sat down and dug in. Silence spread over us as we ate, which, in my point of view, is the way it should be; there's plenty of time for chatter after the food is gone, otherwise its all cold and icky.

I wiped my greasy fingers on my napkin and lay it aside several minutes later and waited patiently for Mum to do the same. "Have you heard from Emmet?" she asked me, mimicking my actions and taking a sip of her Mountain Dew.

"Yes!" I nodded emphatically. "I got an email from him on Saturday. He says he's having a wonderful time and is really studying hard." My brother Emmet had decided last year that he was going to study overseas, in Australia at the Queensland Conservatorium of Music. Needless to say Dad was none too pleased with his decision, just as he was when Emmet decided to take up the cello rather than do Judo in high school. Mum was ecstatic, apparently there was this funny situation from before I was born about Mum and a cello, because when uncle Joe found out he started laughing, whispered something in Mum's ear and she started laughing too. I still had not managed to get the story out of her, but it wasn't for lack of trying.

"I'll believe that when I see it," Mum laughed, pulling back from my thoughts. "He's always been the one to put everything off until the last minute then scramble around and get it done."

I grinned at the very apt description of Emmet. "That may be true, Mum, but it's not quite so easy when you're studying music. Everything takes a lot of hard work. I mean; you heard how much he used to practice and scream at the ceiling when he couldn't get the phrase right! And when he was composing! Oh that was great fun for us all wasn't it?"

She was nodding and smiling. "Yes, its hard to forget. He'd be sitting there at the piano tapping out the melody, just a couple notes at a time and trying to put some chord underneath it. Yes I don't miss that headache."

At that very moment my cell phone rang. It was control. "Peigi," I stated by way of greeting as I flipped the phone open.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your lunch," came Lester's voice, "But there's a bit of a situation with one of the take downs."

I grimaced at Mum in apology as I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. Fortunately for me, Mum understood completely, she'd put up with a lifetime of abrupt endings. That didn't make me feel any better for leaving her there to clean up by herself though. "Give me an address, I'm on my way," I told him taking the lift down to the garage.


	3. The Sitch

_Okay, first off, thanks for all the support thus far. The title of this chapter comes from a Kim Possible saying, "What's the sitch." 'Sitch' being short for 'Situation'. Anyway, heres the next chapter for your enjoyment!_

**A Company Affair**

**Chapter 3: The "Sitch"**

As I washed my hair for the third time I reflected on how much shampoo I use in the course of a week and wondered if I could claim it as a work necessity on my tax. It seemed logical, since it was because of work that I used a bottle of shampoo a week. I can't help it that my skips are overly prone to chucking potato salad out of third story windows onto me. Okay, maybe I was being a little specific, _today_ a skip had thrown potato salad out of a third story window and onto me, but it wasn't as rare an occurrence in my life as one might think.

Last week my hair smelled like an Italian restaurant after one particularly angry woman shoved my head in a pot of bolognaise sauce. It was still warm at the time, too. You see, what happened was I had caught her in the middle of dishing up dinner for her three kids, and apparently she didn't like that, so she grabbed my head, shoved it into the pot, swished it round a little and left me there. It had taken five washes to get all the tomato out my hair and I smelled like garlic for three days after that.

Today I had been called in to help with the same woman, this time I apparently caught her on her way out to a family picnic because as soon I got out of my car she threw the potato salad out the window. It makes me wonder about her mental health. Surely she could have found something more appropriate to throw out the window at me than food. A knife block perhaps? Or even the knives?

Anyway, here I was trying desperately to rid my hair of the mayonnaise and mashed potato, an hour before my date and I still had to pick out what I was going to wear. Finally stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around myself I grabbed the hairdryer out of the cupboard and plugged it viciously into the socket on the wall. As I stood there, blasting my hair I searched in the vanity draw for my basic make up, if I just went with something neutral I could save time and apply while drying my hair.

I had learnt to juggle simultaneous tasks long ago when I was helping Mum get ready for a distraction job. We had a well-worked routine for distractions occurring on a weeknight. Because I had to do my homework and Mum, without a shadow of doubt would be cutting time fine, I would be drying and pinning her hair with one hand while doing my homework with the other, I'm ambidextrous you see. It's a great gift to have. At the same time as I was pinning her hair, Mum was doing her make up, getting dressed and putting on her shoes. Like I said, a well worked routine.

Hair drier in one hand and applicator in the other I made short work of my beautification practice. I decided to leave my hair out with a side part to save time and, grabbing my mascara, headed out into my bedroom to start the clothes choosing ritual. When I looked up from unscrewing the top of the tube, though, I found an outfit already lay out on my bed, complete with shoes. What unnerved me was that I either I didn't notice it earlier as I made a beeline to the shower or it wasn't there; which of course meant that someone had been into my house while I was in the shower. I'd like to think it was the former of the two options.

The dress was hot though, I must admit. Whoever picked it out had good taste. It was a deep red off the shoulder number with a jagged hemline that showed off my long, well toned legs. The three-inch heels were the same shade of red. When I picked up the matching red clutch I noticed a note lying underneath it. It was simple and to the point. "_Love Dad"_ I would have cried with happiness if it weren't for the fact that it would have ruined my make-up and in that moment I knew that the dress hadn't been there when I'd arrived home late this afternoon.

Much to my dismay, once I got it on there was absolutely no place to stick my gun. I even tried shoving it in the little clutch, but found another note from Dad, "_He'll be armed, you'll be safe. Leave it in the draw."_ He knew me too well, but was it any surprise? When I had turned eighteen he had given me my first gun and drilled it into me never to go anywhere without it. It was first on my mental checklist for 'ready to go out', after mascara of course. So, heeding his written words I put the gun into the draw.

Dad had once told me that Mum used to keep her gun unloaded and in a cookie jar when she first started bounty hunting. What Dad doesn't realise is that she still does. Well, okay, it's actually loaded now, but she does keep it in a cookie jar in the cupboard part of her nightstand. I had thought about making a tradition out of it by doing the same with my gun, but it just seemed so silly and plus it took too long to get to in the middle of the night, so it slept in the top draw of my nightstand instead, the same spot where Dad kept his.

True to form, Sean was five minutes early; it was obvious no one had told him about the unwritten rules of picking up your date. The main rule being, Arrive five minutes AFTER the designated time. I didn't really mind all that much. It just showed that he was anxious to see me, and it wasn't like I wasn't used to it by now, in fact, I don't know why I hadn't expected it tonight. We'd been officially dating since we were eighteen and every time he'd taken me out somewhere he had arrived five minutes early.

After the third ring of the doorbell I couldn't take it anymore. I was trapped in a circle of necklaces trying to make a decision and I wasn't about to lose track of my progress by getting up and letting him in. "Just pick the damn lock and make yourself comfortable will you?" I screamed, picking up to necklaces and tossing them into different piles, one to the maybe, one to the no. Moments later I heard the locks tumble and the door open and close.

"Are you alright?" he asked from the other side of my bedroom door.

"I'm fine, just leave me be so I can finish getting ready."

I eventually settled on the ruby pendant on a slim, silver chain that Emmet had given me for Christmas two years previous. As I secured it around my neck I recalled the conversation I had had with my brother before he left for Australia. "The only reason women wear necklaces is to draw attention to their boobs," he had informed me as I sat in a similar circle to the one I had just packed away. "The shape created by the chain being pulled down by the pendant angles the eyes toward the breasts, while the pendant adorns the cleavage keeping the line of sight in the general area."

"Emmet," I had told him, "I could tell you things about why men like boobs in the first place that would put you off them for life." At this point I had pause in thought for a moment. "Actually, I might just do that. Then maybe you'll choose a girl for what's on the inside rather than the size of her bra."

The humorous thing about that conversation was that he had covered his ears and ran from the room singing loudly, "LA LA LA LA LA!"

Now, having finished my beautification process I stepped out into the living room to meet my date. "What car do you have tonight?" I asked, fixing the strap on my shoe. There was silence and I looked over to where I knew he was sitting to find him gazing in wide eyed, slack jawed astonishment at me. As I watched he racked his eyes from my legs to my chest and… yes, there we have it folks, they stayed at chest level. "Sean, honey? Remember the conversation we had? My eyes are up here."

"Huh?" he said, rather unintelligibly.

I chuckled and lifted his head with my index finger, forcing him to look me in the eyes. "What car are you driving tonight?" I repeated.

He gave me a goofy grin and put his hand into his jacket pocket. "This makes sense now!" he told me, handing me what seemed to be a scrap of red material. "My Dad gave me this to give to you when I stopped by the office this afternoon. He said you'd need it."

Then it dawned on me. He had the convertible, and Bobby had thought to send a headscarf along with Sean to protect my hair. Funny how it matched my outfit perfectly. I guess Dad wasn't working alone.

"So where are you taking me?" I asked, securing the scarf around my head and picking up my clutch again.

Simply grinning he replied, "It's a surprise."


	4. The Date

_You have to bear with me on this front; most of this is coming straight out of my head as I write, and the ideas keep changing. So I get them onto the screen as quickly as possible. Here's the proof! Enjoy!_

**A Company Affair**

**Chapter 4: The Date**

Sean had obviously put a lot of thought and consideration into the evening. He made reservations at a swanky restaurant in the business district of town called, _Pierre's,_ requesting a corner booth with a clear view of the entrance. I can only imagine what the receptionist's face would have looked like when he'd told her those specifications. Although, being that it was a restaurant frequented by Rangeman employees, I would like to think that they are used to that kind of request.

We were probably sitting closer than it was polite to when dining out, but it just felt so good. He had his arms around my back with his hand resting at the juncture of my thigh and my torso. I had my hand on his knee and we were sharing one menu between us. There were so many good things to choose from that my eyes kept darting all over the place before I had time to register what the previous item was. Eventually I just sighed and said, "I'll have what you're having." I know it was cheating, but I honestly couldn't decide.

"Are you sure?" he smiled, kissing the nape of my neck.

"Yes, I'm sure. I have no idea what to choose, so I figure I'll choose what you choose."

Rolling his eyes in a good natured way at me, he waved a waiter over. "Two Fisherman's Platter Supremes please, with extra shrimp."

My mouth fell open and I almost didn't get my protest out in time. "Wait!" I finally exclaimed as the waiter turned to leave. "Make that one Fisherman's Platter Supreme with extra shrimp and one," I quickly consulted the menu still in front of me, "Malibu Chicken with salad." As he once again turned to leave Sean began laughing at me. I scowled and crossed my arms. "It's not funny. You did that deliberately."

"You said you would have what I was having!" he choked out. "I did ask if you were sure."

I hit him in the shoulder and he sobered up quick-smart. "You could have told me that's what you were ordering."

"You could have asked."

"You know I don't eat sea food."

"You still should have asked," he shook his head, a smile playing at the corner of his lips once more. "Why don't you eat sea food?"

I sighed heavily. He knew why, I had told him why. Apparently it was a hilarious story, because he asked me to tell him every chance he got. Like now, for example. "I don't eat fish because when I was young I didn't like the taste of it, so whenever Mum, Dad and Emmet had fish fingers Mum would cook me chicken fingers instead. Now I can tell you wholeheartedly that the chicken fingers tasted absolutely foul. When I was sixteen or so I decided I would brave up and try a piece of fish for the first time in like ten years, and it tasted just like the fouls chicken fingers Mum used to feed me. It was then that I realised that she had actually been feeding me fish fingers, but calling them chicken fingers just to get me to eat them. Unfortunately, the whole experience put me off both fish and chicken fingers."

Sean was laughing at me, just like every other time I had told the story. "Okay," he managed, "That explains why you don't eat fish, what about the rest of it?"

Rolling my eyes yet again, I replied in a droll, "I don't eat anything that comes in a shell because you never know when it was last cleaned. Anything else I just don't trust because it comes from the ocean, where they pee in the same water they live in."

While Sean was still laughing his head off at my story our meals appeared. We ate silently, each one handed; he with his right, I with my left, until all that was left was a few leafs of lettuce and the shells of his prawns. I shuddered at the remnants and turned to face him more easily. Before I even had a chance to open my mouth to strike up a conversation, his lips were on mine, practically devouring them. When he finally let up I was breathless and panting. He made a gesture toward a nearby waiter, who nodded and disappeared, only to reappear moments later carrying a tray with several chocolate boxes on it. "Ready for dessert?" Sean asked.

I eyed up the tray. "I guess I have to be, don't I?"

His eyes were bright. "You're gonna love this. We have, whipped cream, and strawberries, and chocolate sauce," as he was explaining, he was lifting the lids of the corresponding boxes. "We also have caramel topping and chocolate buttons. Lastly, this is the box you're going to love most of all." He picked it up and held it out for me to unveil. As I did so I took a bite out of the chocolate. He chuckled. "I knew you'd be more interested in the chocolate than what's inside." Rolling my eyes, in true Burg fashion once again, I looked inside the chocolate box he was still holding and I froze. There gleaming up at me was the exact ring I had been drawing on pieces of scrap paper for months. I had seen it while looking online one night and couldn't get it out of my head. It was a white diamond set in a secure part bezel setting. The band was three millimetres wide and swirled around the diamond to create a unique effect I had never seen before. I knew for a fact that it cost $790 Australian. And there it was sitting in this delicious chocolate box.

Slowly I lifted my eyes to meet his. He was smiling at me like never before, I wanted to say something witty, but I seemed to have lost my voice. He, however, seemed satisfied. "Can you guess what I'm going to ask you?" he asked. I nodded slowly, trying desperately to swallow the bit of chocolate in my mouth. "So will you?" I was silent; obviously I didn't want to answer possibly the most important question of my life with a mouthful of chocolate, but I couldn't swallow past the lump in my throat. I was finding it hard to breathe. "Peigi?" he asked, taking my hand in his, "Are you okay?" I nodded vigorously, trying to get the chocolate down. Eventually I picked up my wine glass and down the whole thing, treating the chocolate as a pill. "Will you marry me?" he asked again, looking a little less satisfied now.

I picked up the gorgeous ring and held it between my thumbs and fore fingers, realising that my hands were shaking. I gazed at it for a long moment, thoughtfully planning out my answer so as not to hurt his feelings. "Look, Sean, I love you and all, but I'm not sure I'm ready for this kind of relationship." All at once his face dropped as if strings had held it up and someone came along and cut them all. I guess I was that someone. "Can I think about it?" I asked.

"How long do you need?" he countered, rather than answering me straight. "An hour? A Day? A week?"

"I don't know, I just need to figure some stuff out. Trust me, when I've figured it all out, you'll be the first to know. Now can we enjoy this beautiful dessert before it all melts?"

"Sure," he grumbled, as I put the ring on my napkin and he returned the chocolate box to the platter.

_**A/N: The story of why Peigi doesn't eat seafood is true. And let me tell you, I didn't speak to my mother for the rest of the night after I made that realisation. If you want to see Peigi's perfect ring you can go to "my ring dot com dot au" (except in the usual format for an internet address) click on the link "engagement rings", then "white gold" and scroll through the designs until you find one that is called "Intriguing Diamond Engagement Ring" (It should be on the second page) Don't forget to review. I love hearing from you all.**_


	5. The After Effect

_Alright, I know you're all anxious to know what happens next, so I won't keep you in suspenders for much longer. I have so many ideas as to where this story is heading, I just have to make up my mind as to which path to follow. Until then, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!_

**A Company Affair**

**Chapter 5: The After Effect**

Any one could see from that point that the rest of the night was going to be awkward. We finished our dessert in tense silence, barely even looking at each other. I don't know why I could just answer him and get on with it. It wasn't like we had only just met; we'd known each other for twelve years and had been officially dating for eight of them. We knew each other better than we knew ourselves. I'd admitted I loved him six years ago, but I could manage a simple "Yes" to THE question. What was wrong with me?

When we'd finally finished the delicious sweets he insisted on covering the bill. I argued for a bit, but knew it was pointless; he'd have his way eventually.

Back in the car I positioned my seat in the sweet spot and rolled up my window just so, to ensure my hair didn't fly in my face. I didn't feel like donning the headscarf again, and I was only going home, so it didn't matter if my hair got tangled. It was nothing another dose of shampoo would fix.

It seemed that the traffic gods were against us. I knew that all he wanted to do was get me home so he could let off some steam, but we managed to hit every red light imaginable and then got stuck behind a car accident that blocked off the entire street. As we sat there, waiting for the road to clear I studied his features. He had secured his well-practiced blank face over all his emotions and was staring straight ahead, but I knew he knew I was watching. "I'm really sorry," I whispered. "I just don't think this is a decision I should make on the spur of the moment." He simply nodded and kept staring at the wreckage before us. "You know I love you, don't you?" Again he just nodded. I fell silent at this point, realising that a conversation wasn't going to happen. I lowered my own blank face and turned to stare out the window at the flashing lights.

"Peigi," he said softly, moments later. When I turned to face him I found a pained expression had crossed his features. "I think I'm gonna be sick." With this he flew from the car and off to the side of the road where I heard him retching horribly. I was out of the car in a flash, rubbing his back as he regurgitated his dinner. It hadn't looked that bad on his plate earlier in the evening, but now as I saw it's rebirth I wanted to hurl as well. I suppressed it though, looking anywhere but the ground as I continued to rub soothing circles on his back, just as my father had done to me the time I had the flu and my chest was all tight.

When he stood several moments later he was looking green around the gills and there was a fine film of sweat on his brow. I handed him a tissue from my purse and he wiped his mouth on it and threw it on top of the steaming pile of vomit. "Are you okay?" I asked, tentatively.

He nodded and handed me the car keys. "I think you should drive," he whispered, removing his jacket and throwing it into the back seat. He then got into the passenger side of the car and tilted he chair back all the way, curling up in the foetal position. He looked so helpless when he was like that.

I managed to squeeze the car up to the front of the jam. An officer came over with his stern face in place, before he could get a word out I was pleading my case. "Look, my boyfriend is sick, he's just thrown up back there and I need to get him home. Is there any way you could let me squeeze past this wreck so we can be on our way?"

He narrowed his eyes at me, "How do I know you're not just pulling a fast one so you're not stuck here with the rest of 'em?"

"I'll take you back and show you the pile of vomit if I have to, just let me through. Please." At that moment, another officer came over to see what the matter was. I recognised this one as my very own, Uncle Joe.

"Peigi, what's going on here?" he asked me, rather than consulting his fellow man.

"Sean is sick and this numbskull won't let us sneak pass so I can get him home," I said plaintively.

"What's wrong with him?" He threw a concerned glance at the passenger seat where Sean still lay, clutching his stomach.

"I'm not sure, he just started throwing up as we were waiting back there."

Uncle Joe thought carefully for a moment and turned to consider the scene behind him. "There's a space on the left that you'll probably fit through, if you run into any difficulties, mention my name, should get you through. You take care of that boy of yours won't you?"

I nodded, "Yes, Uncle Joe. Thanks a million."

Once through the wreckage I made it back home in record time. Sean mumbled something about not wanting to burden me and to just take him home, but the problem with that was, if I did take him home, not only would I worry about him all night and not sleep a wink, but a) I'd be stuck at his house, b) I'd have to drive his car back to my place after dropping him off and keep it over night or c) I swap him over to my car, drive him home, and come home myself, which still left me with his car at my house. I figured it was easier all round to just have him stay here tonight.

I helped him out of the car, ignoring his feeble protests and stood him up while I unlocked the front door. When I turned around he was bent over a bush, hurling his guts up again. As soon as he though he was done I ushered him into the house and straight to the bathroom where I stripped him down to his boxers, shoved the shower chair into the stall and guided him into it after setting the spray to a comfortable temperature. Once I was convinced he wasn't going to fall out of the chair I went to the guest room to find the clothes Emmet had left here in case of emergencies. Luckily Sean and Emmet were about the same size.

I placed the sweatpants and t-shirt on the vanity along with a towel and told Sean they were there. "Don't fall asleep or die in there either," I added on my way back out of the bathroom, "I want a relatively warm shower in the morning." He grunted his acknowledgement and I heard him squeeze the bottle of shower gel onto a face washer.

In my bedroom I changed into the same oversized 'Welcome to Hell' t-shirt I had been wearing to bed for ten years. I had stolen one just like it from my mother's draw at fifteen, and, seeing that she wasn't going to get it back from me without a replacement, Mum bought me one of my own. After removing my make up I made my way out to the kitchen to make myself a cup of herbal tea and wait for Sean to finish in the bathroom. The water had stopped, so I could only assume he was not drying and dressing.

Ten minutes passed and he still had not emerged, so I went to the bathroom door to listen. What I heard was the distinct sound of Sean tossing his cookies, I only hoped that he had enough sense at this time to aim for the toilet bowl… with the lid up. At the first pause in the retching I tapped on the door. "Are you okay?" The only reply was more retching. I backed away again, deciding to set up the guest room for him while I waited.

I made up the bed with old sheets, just in case something happened and his stomach turned suddenly, and placed a bucket on the nightstand along with a packet of Tums and a glass of water.

By the time he emerged from the bathroom I had taken up residency against the wall in the hall. "I made up the guest bed for you," I told him as he shuffled past.

He nodded and shuffled off in the appropriate direction, eyes half closed and shoulders hunched. I followed after him, just to make sure he got into bed alright and he wailed, "How could this night have been screwed up any worse?" I said nothing, just stood in the doorway waiting for him to settle in. "I had it all planned out perfectly. I'd ask you to marry me, you'd say yes and throw yourself into my arms and we'd go back to my place to celebrate with champagne after dessert! What did I get instead? You practically rejected me, and I'm pretty sure this is food poisoning." He threw his hands out. "What did I do, God? Where did I go wrong?"

I decided it was probably best to leave him alone at this point, so I scurried off to my room where I sat cross-legged in the middle of my queen size bed with a steno pad and a bending pencil. After several moments of hesitation I began to right out my thoughts, trying to get my brain into some kind of order. Each contemplation lead smoothly onto the next until I had reached the last page of the notepad. At this point I grabbed my highlighters and began accenting the important bits in various colours. By the time I was finished I was more confused than I had been when I started this damn process so I threw the pad at the door and returned the bendy pencil to the draw beside my bed before yielding to sleep.


	6. The Morning After

_Well, here it is. I had a few problems with this chapter. I drafted it twice and was pretty much happy with it, but wen I transferred all my files to the laptop I got for Christmas I lost the last chapter and couldn't recieve it from my old computer coz it decided to crash. But, after drafting it twice more I am absolutely happy with it this time and am now sharing it... Obviously. Hope you all enjoy it._

**A Company Affair**

**Chapter 6: The Morning After**

I awoke promptly at six thirty the next morning to the sound of the phone ringing shrilly in my ear. It was loud and obnoxious, and rightly so, given that the person on the other end was the one and only Emmet. It took a few moments for me to figure out why the house felt of balance, and then the memory of the previous night's events came flooding back to me in all their technicolour glory. I groaned allowed as I brought the dang device to my ear.

"Hi Peigi!" he practically screamed in my ear. He was cheerful, the bastard. If he were here right now I would have bust a cap in his ass, and rightly so, nobody should be that cheerful while i was so confused.

"Emmet," I managed. "How are you?"

"Fantabulous actually, and you?"

I groaned again. "Shitty."

"What's wrong in the life of you?" he asked, appealing to the sympathy I so desperately needed to feel from him. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make me feel loved.

"I have just made the worst mistake imaginable!" I wailed down the line.

There was a moment of silence on the other end before Emmet took a stab in the dark. "You had sexual intercourse with Dad and now you've found out you're pregnant?" he guessed. Did I mention it was a blind stab in the dark?

My mouth dropped open and all I could do for several moments was my goldfish impression. "EMMET!" I finally screamed. "WHAT KIND OF THING IS THAT TO SAY? AND TO YOUR OLDER SISTER!" I was shocked to say the least, after all, these foul, foul words had come from the mouth of my dear baby brother!

"Well you did say you'd done the worst thing imaginable," he replied calmly. As much as he hated to admit it, or be told it, he was very much like Dad, more on that later however.

"Well, maybe it's not the worst thing you can imagine, but it's pretty bad on the scale."

"Worse than the time you stuck your head in the toilet and the blue cleaner that was in it dyed your hair blue?" he asked, I could hear the smile in his voice.

I had to smile at the memory; that was the only day that I managed to make Dad's face go red with anger. Clearly and achievement to be remembered. "No, it's a little worse than that. Sean asked me to marry him last night."

Now it was Emmet's turn to groan. "Peigi," he said mournfully, tell me you didn't say you needed some time to think!" Cripes, he knew me too well. I was unable of making big decisions without carefully calculating all the possibilities, and he knew it. I was just about to reply when he started again. "You know you love him, right? You've been dating for like a decade! The logical thing to do is take your relationship to the next level! Right, what time is it there? My calculations say it six thirty, and you sound like you've just woken up, which means that you've missed your morning run by an hour, therefore giving you time to tell me all the gory details."

Again, he knew me too well. I sighed heavily, resigned myself to the fact that he wasn't going to hang up until I had told him the entire story and began. I told him everything, starting from when I was washing my hair for the gazillionth time and right through to Sean climbing into bed.

Although he would never admit it, I knew my brother was silently laughing on the other end. When he finally spoke it was a little strained, but his message was also a little abstract. "You're so in for it."

I took a moment to think about this to see if I actually understood what he was saying, and when nothing came to me I simply said, "What do you mean?"

"Well," he started in a business type manner, "You said Dad left the outfit on your bed for you to wear, that obviously means that he knew Sean was going to propose to you, and despite all the hype about Dad being all secretive and stuff, there's no way he wouldn't have told Mum. Mum, in true Burg fashion, would have told a couple of people, at least one of them being one of the Merry Men. And you know what they're like, they gossip worse than the old dears down at the Clip 'n' Curl!"

"Oh God," I uttered, pulling the sheet up over my head. "I'm so dead." He was now laughing loudly in my ear, just to show how considerate he was to my feeling, not. "What am I gonna do?" I moaned.

"There's only one thing you can do," he stated solemnly, "You're gonna have to tell Sean you'll marry him."

I narrowed my eyes beneath the sheet, despite that nobody could see the gesture, let alone Emmet, across the waves in Australia. He probably had a fabulous tan by now. "I can't do that yet," I told him in earnest. "I don't know-."

Before I could finish my rationalisation Emmet cut me off. "You love him don't you?" he asked. I nodded, forgetting once again that he was not getting a visual, so I vocalised the gesture. "So what's the problem? Everyone knows you want forever with him, so go get it."

I sighed for what must have been the nth time this morning. "Your sensical talk has never failed me before has it?" I asked, simply looking for reassurance that this is what I should be doing. He gave me an affirmative on my question and at that moment there was a soft knock on my door. "Look, I'm gonna have to let you go, Sean's awake."

"Wait!" he cried, "I haven't told you my news! I'll hold on while you talk to him; I'll even hum some elevator music while I wait." Unfortunately I was pretty sure he wasn't kidding about the elevator music.

I sighed yet again. "Alright, I won't hang up on you, I promise." Now let me tell you, with the way I was feeling toward my dear younger brother at that moment I probably would have hung up on him anyway if I weren't a girl of my word. I slid from beneath the sheet and made my way across the room to the door, my thumb over the receiver of the phone. I opened the door slowly, dreading facing my beloved friend after I had hurt him so last night. I tried to smile, but didn't quite manage it. "Morning," I said, avoiding eye contact.

"Morning," he replied, and I detected the same awkwardness in his voice as I was feeling. "Thank you so much for your hospitality last night. I'm really sorry I wasn't more appreciative at the time. I was just a little..."

"I understand, Sean, you weren't well; I witnessed that for myself," I interrupted. "It was the least I could do, both our parents would have killed me had I let you go home alone in the state you were in."

"The least you could do would have been nothing," he told me, a touch of laughter in his voice now. "But I really am grateful." There was a pause that lasted a good minute before he spoke again. "Peigi, will you look at me?" I neither replied nor took action for a long moment, until he gently lifted my face so that I had no choice but to look him in the eyes. "I love you," he said, and I could clearly see the love in his eyes. My own tears were welling with tears as the words I so longed to say stuck in my throat, blocked by the lump that formed there at his statement. "I've decided that if you need time and space to think then its best that I give that to you. If I'm constantly around you, that's going to influence your decision and conflict your interests, so I'm taking a week off to visit my grandmother in Maine. And if you haven't come into a clear decision by the time I get back I'll take some contract work at the Miami office."

Having said this, he seized me and pulled me into a bone melting kiss and for the first time ever I allowed his tongue to enter my mouth. Weird, I know, that in the eight years that we've been dating I haven't even let him explore my mouth, but I was a cautious girl, as you may have already gathered from the way I was dealing with this situation. When he pulled back he simply told me that he would see me in a week and that was it. He walked right out of the house. I was left in the doorway to my bedroom with a half smile still lingering on my face from the amazing pash and he was half way down the street already.

After several confusing moments of standing there, suddenly all alone I remembered Emmet still waiting on the phone, probably oblivious to my world fast melting away before my eyes. "Emmet?" I asked, putting the phone to my ear again.

His elevator music stopped abruptly. "Peigi, you know it's quite weird listening to two people snogging on the other end of a phone." I was silent; I had no idea what to say. I was pretty sure I should have said something to Sean, but the time was up, he was on his way to grandma's house. "Did you also know that holding your thumb over the receiver doesn't actually do anything, I heard everything? Sis, are you alright?" Again I said nothing. There wasn't anything I could say, the situation I was in seemed irreconcilable. I was a dead girl. "Peigi?" Emmet was starting to sound worried now, "Are you still there?"

Coming out of my stupor a little I replied, "Yeah, I'm still here, what was your fantastic news?"

"Come on, Peigi, I heard every word of what just went on between you and Sean, and I know you well enough to know you're thinking you've just ruined everything. Talk to me."

I glanced at the clock on my alarm, seven fifteen, I didn't really have the excuse of time in this situation. I had no choice but to talk to him. Not exactly the top of my want list at the moment, but he did have a knack for making me feel better. Like the time I came off my bike into Gran's rose bush, when I started crying he hugged me and gave me his icy pole. I knew there would be a symbolic icy pole if I talked to him about this, but I wasn't sure I wanted to talk about it at the moment. "I don't really feel like talking about it at the moment, why don't you just tell me your fantastic news so we can get off the phone, this call is going to cost you a fortune as it is."

He sighed. "Alright, but promise me you'll send me an email and vent a little in the gym. I don't want you to kill anyone simply because you're frustrated. It may be dead or alive, but alive is preferable."

I managed a little laugh at this, he sounded just like Dad when he was briefing new recruits. How many times had I heard that speech over the years? I had been able to recite each one word for word off by heart by the time I was ten, but was still required to sit through them once added to the payroll. The joys of being boss's daughter I suppose.

"I was at the beach the other day," Emmet began, startling my out of my thoughts. "Just kind of soaking up the sun, when this awesomely hot chick comes over and she's all like, 'Hi, I'm Belinda, what's your name?' and I was kinda like, 'Emmet'. So she's like, 'What's your accent?' and I'm like, American, I lived there until last year, then I came here to study at the Con.' And she goes, 'I was about to head over to the cafe across the street, I was wondering if you wanted to come with?' Of course I accepted; I've never been one to turn down a pretty lady. So we went to the cafe, had coffee and now we have and official date-date tomorrow night. Is that like the greatest thing or what?"

I laughed softly, he was a bit excitable, but it was nice to know that he hadn't actually been pursuing this girl, unlike every other time. I guess that girls knew to take control over in Australia. I bet some of them even did the proposing, rather than waiting for the guys to get their bums into gear... Was that how I felt? That Sean had taken too long to ask me to marry him? Was that why I had told him I needed to think? To show him how it felt to be left waiting? Cripes, I think I need a therapist.

So we ended our conversation and I went about a modified routine to get ready. I felt quite off balance without the left over adrenaline coursing through my body from my morning run, but I just had to get past that. It was my own fault that I hadn't gone for a run this morning, so I was going to have to suffer the consequences.


	7. Trainee Tips

_Well, I feel this chapter is a big nothing that lead to not far from nowhere... but its the best I can manage, its been bugging me and besides, every story has boring bits. Here it is for you scrutiny. Enjoy?_

**A Company Affair**

**Chapter 7: Trainee Tips**

It was ten to nine when I rolled silently into the garage and almost rear ended one of the company SUVs when I saw the balloons hanging from the ceiling over my space. Pulling on the parking brake I glanced around to see that they had done the same to Sean's spot, but unlike me, he wasn't going to see it. I cursed under my breath as I beat my forehead against the steering wheel; it didn't do much except send pain shooting through my head. It was at that moment that I knew I would be stopping by a drugstore to buy Advil at some point during the day. I also knew that I wouldn't survive a day in the office without answering a whole lot of questions that I didn't feel like answering. Deciding that a quick in an out was all I could stand, I removed myself from the car leaving my bag under the seat.

As I crossed the garage the elevator door binged open and Binkie stepped out followed closely by Woody. They both grinned at me and said, "Congratulations," as our paths intersected and I pasted on my best smile and nodded my acknowledgement. I took the elevator up to the fourth floor and was met with congratulatory cheers as I stepped off. I grimaced and made my way swiftly to my cubicle where I rifled through my inbox and pulled out a couple of new cases. I put up my sign to let the rest of them know that I would be out of the office for the day, then went to find Greg, one of the newbies. I figured that seeing as the rule was that we had to have a second along with us on any and all field work and Sean was consequently out of town I would take the time to train the guy.

He seemed as grateful to get out of the office as I was, sighing a soft relief as we vacated the premises. We were silent for several blocks, until we were stuck at a red light. "So," he began, letting the syllable hang in the air forebodingly as I strummed my fingers on the steering wheel.

Eventually I reached under the seat and grabbed out the files I had seized in my brief visit to the office. "These are the guys we're looking at today. We're just doing some preliminary stuff, checking out residence, chatting with neighbours, relatives, co workers. Got it?"

He nodded and flipped through each file in turn. "What do we do once we've checked out all that stuff?" he asked.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He seemed to be studying the files fairly hard. "Have you ever been out on any field work?" I asked him, taking a corner with one hand on the wheel as I turned the file he was studying so I could see the information. It was the third page, I noticed, friends and family listed alphabetically by surname, with phone numbers, addresses, occupation and relation listed below. I couldn't see what was so important on the page that caused him to examine it so carefully.

He shook his head, no. "Nobody even pays attention to me in the office. The boss has me sitting in a corner observing mostly. It's quite interesting actually, it's like you all have your own Rangeman language. You're all so close knit. I can't imagine how I'll ever find my place."

A genuine smile played at the corners of my mouth for the first time all morning and I nodded. "Yeah, it's like one big family. Don't worry, sooner or later they'll all realise your qualities and you'll be put to good use. This is just the beginning. They'll warm up to you, don't worry, they're just a little weary of outsiders."

Confusion knitted through his brow as he stared at me. "Forgive me, but how old are you? You don't seem too old, and yet you speak with an air of authority about the company."

"Twenty-five," I replied. Not willing to let him in on the secret of my parents unless he asked specifically. "Now if you don't mind, how old are you?"

"Old," he laughed, shaking his head. "Thirty," he divulged when I raised my eyebrow in question.

"That's not old," I assured him. "That's about average for a newbie in this company. And trust me, a lot of the guys are way older than they seem."

"There you go again with that air of authority," he told me. He then added, quieter and with a bit of awe, "Twenty-five? You're shitting me right?"

"No, I'll be twenty-six on the fiftth of January next year." At this point I added lightly, "Don't forget that date, I expect a present."

"Okay, so if you really are twenty-five, how did you manage to get into this business so early?" he asked, returning his attention to the file in his hands.

I shrugged. "Family ties, summer internship, a lifetime of training from my Dad. It all adds up, you know?" He seemed to accept that answer and we fell silent for a few minutes while I continued to drive.

He seemed to notice that as of yet I had been driving around aimlessly, and asked the dreaded question. "So, you and that Sonar guy, eh?"

I sighed, and would have thrashed my head against the steering wheel again if it weren't for the fact that I was driving and didn't fancy a trip to hospital. "What about us?" I asked.

"Heard he popped the question last night," he said simply, "but you don't seem all that thrilled this morning." As I opened my mouth to reply he cut me off. "Don't bother trying to tell me it's because of the fuss the other men are making. By rights you should be up there flaunting your rock." This caused me to look at my empty left hand on the steering wheel and quickly tuck it out of sight. "Too late for that," he told me, "I know there's nothing there. What happened?"

As much I had been enjoying our little chat, it all went down the gurgler when he bridged that fatal topic. Well, my mother always said that the best mental defence is denial, so I changed the topic and denied that the topic came up. "Would you mind reading out the address of the first case?" I asked. Greg took the hint and rattled off the address without consulting anything.

When I looked at him, he shrugged. "I'm an observer," he said, "I notice things that others don't, I also have a photographic memory. I have a bit of military background, but wasn't the greatest in combat. Ranger said that he'd have to put me through some training and stuff."

Boy does he talk a lot. "You talk a lot."

He grinned. "Well, if I don't keep talking usually they miss the details I've picked up; it's a habit I suppose. What's your specialty area?" he asked.

"Information gathering mostly. But I have sufficient training in armed and hand to hand combat. I have a degree in Mass communications and human services, which helps with the information skills." As I pulled to the curb a block away from the house I instructed him to retrieve the clipboard from beneath his seat. "Right," I began, shutting off the car and grabbing my hat. "Like I said, this is prelim. We're gathering information, and making observations. All these guys are potential skippers and its our job to discern whether or not they're likely to leave town. Let me do the talking and just right down anything you see that may indicate that he's leaving town. We're posing as home security inspectors. But I have to stress; let me do all the talking. They're more open with females, which is why I usually get this job. Got it?"

He nodded and we made our way up to the house. I rang the doorbell and waited in front of it like a normal person; let me tell you, it took a lot of effort, I'd been trained since a young age to stand to the side of the door to avoid injury. When the door open several seconds later there stood Henry Greenfield, a dirty old bathrobe barely secured around his waist, and from what I could tell he wasn't wearing much else.

"Good morning, sir," I began brightly. "We're from Home Security. We were wondering if you would allow us to do a walk through your house and assess your system, see if maybe we can't update it for you."

He scrutinised us for a long moment before simply nodding and opening the screen door to allow us access. "Where do you need to see?" he asked.

I took a glance around the entrance way. "What kind of system do you have at the moment, Mr-."

"Greenfield. Just locks."

I widened my eyes in shock. "What do you mean 'just locks'? You can't get by on just locks these days. You need alarm systems and cameras and in this neighbourhood a few strobe lights wouldn't go astray either."

"What's the point? So it can wake up the whole street when the cat comes home? The system I have works. I don't need all that new fandangled technology. Is that all you wanted?"

"We'd still like to have a walk through, see if we can maybe suggest a few minor adjustments to increase security even if you don't want to upgrade to one of our systems."

"Fine," he sighed. He lead a tour that would have put me to sleep if it weren't for the fact that I had to keep my eyes out for anything that looked even remotely suspicious.

He seemed to be wrapping up the tour, so I asked some vital questions. "Were you thinking of going out of town at all? Our company offers special cover while you're on holiday and such." He said no, and chivvied off onto the porch. "Well, if you change your mind, don't hesitate to contact Home Security."

Back in the car, I pulled a Snickers bar out of the glove box and broke it half. I stuck one piece in my own mouth and offered the other to Greg, who had slid the clip board into my lap. "So tell me about last night."

Sighing heavily, I related the whole sordid tale for the second time this morning. When I was done we sat in silence for a few moments. "Do you want to know what I think?" he asked.

"Not really, but tell me anyway."

"Call him. Tell him to get his butt back here and then give him a piece of your mind."

"I'm the one that told him I needed some time to think," I reminded him.

"That doesn't mean he had the right to leave you here alone to face everyone." Rational, maybe this is what I needed.

"Would you mind driving?" I asked, picking up my cell phone.

Sean picked up on the second ring. "Peigi." That was it, all I got.

"Sean," I replied. "Where are you?"

He sighed in my ear, how inconsiderate. "I'm at home. I took a sickie. My Grandmother died when I was three."

"Why did you tell me you were going to visit you grandmother then?"

"Because I needed some time to process some stuff. And you told me you needed to think. If you really need to think about whether you want me then maybe we're better off not going down that road."

"Are you alone?" I asked to change the subject.

He paused. "Yeah, why?"

"Because we need to talk." It felt weird having this conversation with Greg right there, but I had to. And Emmet was right, I was being a wuss. I just needed to tell him and get it over with. "Head back to the office," I told Greg on the side. "I'm coming over, and we're gonna settle this once and for all. Everything is gonna be out in the open so we can examine it together."

He was silent for a few moments, then, "O-okay... I'll see you in a few then?"

"Be ready." With that I hung up and started mentally preparing myself for the day I had ahead of me.


	8. Forbidden Land

_Those of you who have been following my recently completed fanfic "Given a Moment" will know that I often come up with ideas during my boring university lectures. Well, not only did this chapter develop in my mind during one of these lectures, but I decided to write it down as well. I know it's been a long time since I've updated this story, so I hope I'm still running along the same track as I was back then. Anyway, stop reading these sorry excuses and skip straight to the story. NOW!_

**Chapter Eight**

The short drive across town to Sean's apartment building seemed agonisingly long, compounded by the fact that I caught every red light imaginable. When, finally, I reached the car park, after what seemed like decades, my body refused to obey the commands of my brain. I found myself unable to exit the car; even unbuckling my seatbelt was beyond me. So there I sat, like a stunned mullet, behind the wheel of my SUV, mentally preparing myself for the confrontation to come, in hopes that by preparing I might relax enough to get out of the car. Apparently not, thought, as I continued to sit there, utterly helpless against the fear that had been welling inside me since the night before. I unconsciously turned the key in the ignition. As I caught myself pulling out of the parking bay my phone rang.

I pulled back into the space before answering.

"Where were you going?" came Sean's anxious voice. "I thought you said we needed to talk. That's why you came over here isn't it? To talk?"

My throat had closed over, making speech virtually impossible. The sound of his voice, so full of concern had me close to tears. "I... I can't do this," I managed to stammer out. "Not now. Not at the moment."

Silence. That's all I received in reply. Horribly uncomfortable, tension filled silence. Not quite silent though; if I listened closely enough I could faintly make out his breathing. Slow, deep breaths, strangely similar to those he takes to keep from crying out in pain when hurt. Then I realised, had an epiphany you might say; he _was_ hurt, just not physically like he normally was. This was an emotional hurt, the kind that burns like embers in your chest and threatens to engulf your very being and incinerate you alive.

"I'm sorry, Sean," I whispered in an effort to sooth him. It didn't quite work; as before I could explain further he'd hung up. I sat there, stunned for another minutes or so before finally putting the phone away and laying my head on the steering wheel. The tears that had threatened at the sound of his voice now emerged to greet the world.

Several sob filled moments later I surfaced from the solitude of the steering wheel and drove away. I'd like to say at this point that my thoughts still lingered on Sean, but they hadn't. On the contrary, my thoughts were now totally focused on capturing some scumbag (preferably having to beat him up a little first) and take him in to justice. I had no idea why I felt like this, possibly it was due to the immense amount of anger I was feeling, not at Sean, but at myself. Probably I was subconsciously thinking that if I beat on someone, they would retaliate and cause me physical pain, which would, in turn, divert my attention from my current, very prominent emotional pain.

Emotions had never much been a strong point with me. I got it from my father. We both have an amazing capability to withhold any emotion that may cause others to see us as weak or worse, fragile. Of course, as always there are exceptions, but at current I cannot think of one. Back to my point through, I needed to inflict some physical pain on myself. Crazy, I know, but it made sense in my head at the time.

Personally, I had no skips that needed to be taken care of at that very moment, so I did the forbidden and made my way over Uncle Vinnie's Bail Bonds office. That's not what it's called exactly, given that Emmet and I are the only ones that call him Uncle Vinnie, but, that's where I went.

At one time Rangeman and Vincent Plum Bail Bonds had worked in conjunction, Vinnie doing the bonding, and Rangeman doing the recapturing when they failed to appear at their court date, but things had changed in the last five years. Firstly, Dad and Uncle Vinnie had gotten into a huge argument about god-only-knows-what; both had refused to talk about it. Then Vinnie had stopped handing files over to Rangeman. Dad promptly followed this by getting a bonding licence of his own, which only served to irritate Vinnie even more. And now all Rangeman employees, including me, mum and Emmet (although Emmet doesn't currently work for Rangeman), are forbidden to take work from Vincent Plum. Just be at his office was pure suicide.

Shaking with anger directed at myself, I pulled to the curb a car length away from the front door and took a few steadying breaths. If Vinnie knew I was angry there was no way he would allow me to take on any skips. I composed my face into a suitably calm expression and removed my body from the car.

As I entered through the plate glass door I gave the room a sweeping glance. Not much had changed in Five years, but that was Uncle Vinnie for you, nothing much ever changed with him. I saw that there was a new pot plant beside the desk at the far end of the room. Behind that desk was a girl whom I had gotten to be good friends with at one time, until she was banned from this place, Inez Muso.

Inez was a stocky, vertically challenged, Portuguese beauty a year younger than myself, with dark hair cut to shoulder length and pulled into a ponytail at the base of her neck. She wore pink corduroy pants that covered her feet, which I could only assume were clad in her standard thick soled boots, and a black t-shirt sporting the words _If you think these look appetising get a load of the fist about to collide with your jaw. _Yes, for a pocket sized girl she could sure cause a bit of grief. Nothing has ever been confirmed (due to my reluctance to bring the subject up in her presence) but she is rumoured to have bitten the finger off a male sales assistance when he had tried to fix her collar while she tried on a jacket. Mum always says she's the perfect woman to be working for Vinnie, but she never really explained it.

I was greeted with a squeal of delight as she launched herself over the desk at me. "OMIGORD! I can't believe what I'm seeing! You're here! You're actually here!" She paused a moment looking toward the door to Uncle Vinnie's inner office. "What are you doing here?" she whispered, "I was under the impression that Rangemen weren't allowed to set foot in here!"

We're not. This is a one-of. I need some work." My voice was barely a whisper, but Uncle Vinnie came bursting from his office with a severe expression on his face.

"I thought I made it perfectly clear that I do not do business with that miserable loaf you call a father!" he exclaimed

Inez abruptly stepped back from me and schooled her own expression into one of appropriate shame, knowing that, had Vinnie not exploded into the room, she'd have gladly handed me a file or two, no questions asked. Being the good little Girl Scout I had been trained to be, though, I had prepared a plea for just this occasion.

"This isn't for Dad," I stated quite simply. "This is for me. Dad doesn't even know I'm here. Please, I need the money."

Vinnie scoffed at my words. "Why don't you just ask Daddy? I'm sure he'd be more than willing."

"If I asked Dad for the money he'd want to know why I needed it. I can't let him know. Please, can't you just let me catch one or two of your skips, just this once? I promise, it's the last time."

"Correction," he seethed. "This can't be the last time." I was expecting him o finish by saying, "This isn't even the first time." However, to my surprise, and judging by the expression on Inez's face, hers too, he did not try to turn me away again. "I need your help," he sighed in a resigned kind of way. "All my BEAs are either injured or missing."

I felt the grin spread across my face, but could not squash it. It was too late anyway, Uncle Vinnie had seen it. "How long has it been like this?" I asked, finally applying my blank face.

He shrugged, turning to return to his office, obviously unwilling to continue the conversation. "Inez, give her some files and send her on her way. Peigi, if your father comes to me complaining I'll send him in your direction."

With a resounding crash, his office door slammed shut. Taking that as a cue, we both let out the breath we had unconsciously been holding. I was immediately engulfed once more in Inez's strong bear-like hug. "I've missed you so much!" she exclaimed quietly. Apparently, though, it wasn't quiet enough.

"Take you files and go, Peigi!" Vinnie yelled. Well at least I knew he hadn't changed all that much; still the same old grump.

I followed close behind Inez as she made her way over to her desk. "When do you have your lunch break?" I whispered in her ear as she shuffled through the pile of manila folders, sorting out some of the more urgent cases for me to take.

"In about an hour," she told me. "Cluck in a Bucket?"

"Cluck in a Bucket," I agreed as my cell phone began to ring. I let out a low groan as I took note of the caller ID. I couldn't deal with this now.

"I need to know exactly what you meant when you said you couldn't do this," Sean demanded. "What is 'this'?"

I let out a sigh. My anger at myself stepped up a notch or two. I should have told him exactly what I meant straight up. It would have avoided this awkward situation. How was I supposed to tell him that I wasn't exactly sure what 'this' is? At the time I'd made the comment I was absolutely certain that 'this' was referring to the conversation I had gone to his apartment to have, but as time progressed and my mind continued to reel out of control, I had the sinking feeling that I was referring to getting married. And that's what scared me the most. The fact that I loved Sean so much but couldn't seem to tell him that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. Because I did want to spend the rest of my life with him, I still do, actually.

"Peigi?" Sean enquired, snapping me out of my reverie. "Are you still there?"

"Now really, that was a stupid question, I hadn't even said hello, he had no possible way of knowing that it was me in the first place. "Yeah, I'm still here," I murmured.

"Well?" he prompted. He was sounding impatient, which made me feel rather guilty for having gotten us into this situation in the first place.

At that very moment, to my relief and dismay both, I was alerted of an incoming call by way of persistent beeps in my ear. Breathing a soft sigh, I apologised and promised to get back to him as soon as humanly possible. He didn't sound overly impressed by the promise, I think we both knew it was a lie.

"Peigi Manoso,"

"Just what do you think you're doing at Vinnie's?" my mother's stern voice accused. "You know very well you father's stance on associating with him."

I sighed (yet again), and prepared to plead my case. "I know his stance, but I don't understand why. Besides, I'm not associating with Uncle Vinnie, I came by to catch up with Inez and see if she wanted to join me for lunch." Well it wasn't a total lie, was it? Its times like there that I thank God I'm not Pinocchio.

"It's only eleven o'clock," Mom stated, by way of arguing.

"I had to make sure she'd be free, I haven't seen her in a fairly long while."

"Five years, yes, I'm sorry darling. Why are you having lunch with Inez? I thought you'd be spending the day with Sean."

Can you guess what I did in reply to her questions? Yes, that's right, I sighed. "It's complicated."

"I'm sure it is, Peigi. Look in your heart and you'll find the answer you're looking for."

What is it with mothers that they always know exactly what is going on in your life no matter what? Admittedly, it's kind of obvious, in my current situation at least, but the fact still remains that she knew what to say to reassure me. Well, okay, it didn't so much reassure me as put the added pressure on me. She knew I would make the right decision for myself, but I still wasn't sure what that decision was. In spite of all the advice I had received today, I just didn't know what to do.

My frustration levels were at an all time high as I set out to apprehend some scumbags. I felt sorry for any sucker who dared to resist, they'd be in for one hell of a butt whooping.

First on the list, Frankie Reterin, arrested for assault and battery. _Perfect_, I thought, _he was bound put up a fight._ Feeling my gut clench in pleasure at the imagined sensation of my fist colliding with his face, I grinned and checked my mirrors. Just as I suspected, I had a tail. Definitely a Rangeman, given the colour (or lack thereof) of the vehicle and the bulky outline of the driver. I didn't bother trying to lose him, I could talk any of the Rangemen around to my side as easily as I could touch my nose (when sober of course, it didn't happen to well when I was intoxicated).

As I pulled to the curb half a block down from Frankie's place of residence my devout follower pulled in behind me. I busied myself with re-applying my lip gloss before checking the details on Frankie's file. When there was a tap at my window I beamed and turned to face my mark only to have the smile die on my lips. _Fuck._ The last person I wanted to see in my current state of mind stood by my car, peering in at me. _Did I mention 'Fuck'?_


	9. Argumentative Headaches

_Okay, after having a nice long chat with my mother (the source of a fair few of my evil fanfic schemes) I managed to refine my initial ideas for this chapter. There were so many and now there are a few more. Here it is._

**Chapter 9**

I opened my eyes the barest minimum only to find that the room was dark. _Just as well, _I thought. I don't think my head could have managed any light penetrating it's fragile, throbbing state. Reaching my hand up I encountered the source of my splitting headache, a bump that felt like it was the size of a bowling ball, but more realistically was probably only golf ball size. _How did that get there?_ Closing my eyes against the darkness that enveloped and pressed in on me I cast my mind back to the last thing I remembered: the slight scent of petrol and a couple of muttered words. I couldn't quite make them out at the time, but now as I reflected I realised what had been said. "Sorry Peigi." It seems obvious why they were apologising. I mean, _Hello, _giant bump on my head! But what did they want with me?

Here's a better question for you, who is 'they'? Very puzzling, I know... but there wasn't much I could do about it at the current moment. The best I could do was go through the events of my day and try to work out when I had been kidnapped...

I distinctly remember getting into my car after visiting Inez and driving to Frank Reterin's place of residence to blow off steam by bringing his sorry ass back into the system. And the Rangeman SUV pulling up behind me on the street... _Chuck!_ It must have been Chuck! He's had it in for me since day one. Although, given the circumstances of our first meeting, I can't really blame him. That was definitely one UGLY situation.

I remember like it was yesterday. (Just so's you know, it was a good four years ago.)

I had been in the gym going through a few yoga positions, trying to calm my body before work. I had been feeling ratty all week, but it finally came to a head that morning. Dad, well, Ranger, entered the gym with a new recruit in tow intending to put him through a few paces as part of an initial evaluation. While Ranger does not favour me in any way over the other employees he does hold more respect for my combat skills, given that he had trained me personally from the age of twelve and by fifteen I was able to pin him without help. So I was chosen to challenge dear old Chuck... actually, I was chosen to challenge Benjamin Calligan... he didn't get his nickname until that afternoon... when the security footage had circulated the office entirely, but we'll get back to that in a moment. There I was circling the mat with Ben, still feeling queasy, but not willing to let anyone know. If they thought there was even the most miniscule possibility I was sick they'd have sent me home immediately, and I just couldn't have that.

The combat didn't last long. In fact it was over in approximately two minutes. I landed a decent amount of punches for the timeframe, but was a bit slow on the defence, I'm afraid. When Ben managed a kick to my gut the results were in no way pretty. Suddenly, that morning's breakfast was appearing before my eyes... all over the newest employee... That's right, I vomited, spewed, technicolour yawned, yakked, whatever you want to call it, that's what I did. Speaking of, I believe the guys decided to call it "up-chucking", hence, Ben's brand new nickname: Chuck Bucket, or Chuck for short.

Seems like a hilarious story to most, but for Ben it must have been a traumatic experience. Think about it. "Welcome to the company, be a darl' and catch the contents of my stomach, will you?" The fortunate thing is that Ella was there in a flash with the necessary cleaning materials and a clean set of clothes; the unfortunate thing is that the security footage of the event has made the Christmas "Company Highlights" DVD every year since. Let me tell you, there was no forgive and regret to that situation.

Naturally, I avoid ever partnering with him if I can help it, but sometimes there's just nothing you can do. Like today for example... It _is_ still today, right? Oh well, we'll assume it is for the sake of my brain.

When he turned up at Reterin's house my spirits plummeted, and as you know already, they weren't too high to begin with. After several moments of staring into his exceedingly smug face I breathed a heavy sigh. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Funny thing," he began, grin growing still more. "I was just about to ask you the same thing."

"I'm working, what does it look like? Now what are you doing here?"

Chuch shrugged nonchalantly and stuck his hands in his pockets. "I noticed you were alone and figured you needed a partner." _Subtext: I've been tracking your movements trying to find something make your life a living hell and this is it. Like fuck am I gonna sit back and let this situation go to waste._

"I'm fine," I told him, reaching under the seat for my gun. "You can go back to whatever it was you were doing."

"You're supposed to have a partner, Peigi. It's company policy." This was, of course, true, but I gave him the satisfaction of one of the world famous eye rolls I had inherited from my mother.

"Fine," I uttered, rather annoyed by his logic. He stepped back from my door, allowing me to exit the car and held out his hand expectantly as I did so. I looked from the hand to him and back with a perplexed expression on my face. "What?" He flourished his hand meaningfully in the air in front of me and I allowed a semblance of clarity to cross my features. "Oh!" I slapped his hand in the universal 'five' manner and started past him up the walk to Reterin's front door.

Before I'd taken more than a few steps his large hand gripped my upper arm in a firm, almost painful way. "I need to see the file," he said through clenched teeth.

"No you don't. I have all the information you need right here." I tapped my temple with the index finger of my left hand. "Besides, I already locked the car, it'd just be a pain to have to open it." For good measure I added in my foolproof puppy dog eyes, not much use on him though, he simply narrowed his eyes and loosened his grip on my arm.

"Well?" Chuck prompted as I started back up the path.

"Probably armed, missed his court date, needs to go back to lock up," I shrugged. Yeesh, you'd think he'd know that kind of thing after seven years in the business.

"What did he do?" Chuck persisted.

I rolled my eyes again, not that he could see it. "I told you already, he missed his court date."

"Peigi, you're getting on my last nerve. Tell me the fuck why we're apprehending him or I'm dragging you ass back to Haywood and filling your father in on all the dirt I've collected on you."

Letting go of a deep breath I braced myself for his reaction to my words and said slowly and determinedly, "He missed his court date and needs to go back to the clink." I honestly thought he was going to tackle me to the ground and bash my head in, the look he was giving me when I turned to face him. "Are you going to help or not?" I asked, trying to stave off the potential mayhem that would have emerged had I not distracted him, albeit slightly, from the source of his suffering.

With a short, curt nod he took up position at the back of the house. It would seem, based on the two situations I can remember, that things always end quickly when both he and I are involved. A mere five minutes after our sidewalk argument we were once again standing next to my vehicle, but with one small difference, Frank Reterin was thrown over Chuck's shoulder.

After knocking with no response twice I decided to try the handle. Low and behold, it was unlocked. Honestly, sometimes I think they want to be dragged back to jail. When I entered it was to find Frank unconscious on the couch, a beer in one hand and the television remote in the other. Not wasting any time, I slapped the cuffs on him and called Chuck in at the same time. He hauled him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and carried him out to my SUV without a word and then we stood on the sidewalk having a vaguely familiar argument. It went something like this:

"I'll meet you at the cop shop."

"I can take it from here."

"You couldn't lift him to carry him out here, how are you going to get him into the station?"

"I'll get a cop to help me, it's what they're there for."

"Wouldn't it just be easier for me to come with you and do it myself?"

"No. I'll be fine. Now on your bike. I don't need your help anymore."

I punctuated the end of the argument by climbing into my car and slamming the door shut. This is why I came to the conclusion that the person who had hit me on the head as I emerged from the back of the police station had to be Chuck. You'd think someone would have noticed something like that. Aren't Cop Shops supposed to have like extra strict surveillance both inside and out? Apparently not, because my attack managed to go unnoticed.

Suddenly the light switched on, and even though my eyes were still shut, it was too much for my poor little head. I threw an arm over my face to block out the assault just as a booming voice penetrated the silence.

"Up and Adam Peigi!"

_Sorry, I resolved last chapter's cliffie, but seem to have created another. I promise to try really hard to get the next chapter out soon._


	10. Shocking Revelantions

**Chapter 10**

"_Up and Adam, Peigi."_

I felt like I was fifteen again for doing it, but I groaned and rolled over, pulling the pillow around my heard to try to block out any noise. It didn't work. The voice was no regular, it was amplified and probably coming through a speaker in the wall.

"I know you're awake, Peigi."

Make that several speakers in the wall.

Groaning again I tried to burrow deeper in my covers, but with little success. A single sheet does not hide you from the world. You need at least a blanket to do that. I tried my damnedest though, believe you me.

"Peigi, you can't fool us. Now get out of bed."

"Yes I can, and no I won't," I whispered, trying in vain to save my aching head, but alas, with the booming of the voice through the wall speakers my headache had already been promoted to migraine status. "Leave me alone to die."

"You're not dying."

"How would you know?"

"Just get your cute little ass out of that god awful cot and stand against the wall under the window."

"What window?"

A sigh transmitted through the speaker. Well, it seemed my captor was getting impatient. "The one opposite the door. If you'd open your eyes you'd see it."

"I can't open my eyes."

"Why not?"

"The light. The head. The pain."

"If I dim the lights will you get out of bed?"

"It depends. Are you going to rape me, cut me, shoot me, or in any way cause me any more bodily harm?"

The voice let out a chuckle. "No, I'm pretty sure your father is going to kill us for the bump on your head, anything else just isn't worth it."

"Dad won't kill you for the bump on my head; he'll kill you for kidnapping me. Mum will kill you for the bump on me head."

Was that a gulp? It must have been a gulp.

"We're dimming the lights." A different voice came over the speakers. "Will you get off the cot now?"

"Shhh," I whispered. "Head equals ouch."

"Please, Peigi?"

"Alright, alright, I'm moving. See?"

I rolled onto my back and let the pillow fall back onto the cot before pushing the sheet from on top of me.

"Thank you Peigi."

Swinging my legs off the bed I sat up, but a wave of dizziness encompassed me and I had to lie back down. I hit the pillow with a soft moan noting that I hadn't even opened my eyes for the effort to stand. A sigh escaped my lips as I pried them open for a second attempt. The result was a little worse. Dizziness washed over me accompanied by a spinning room around me and wave of nausea building in my throat. Taking a deep breath to stave off the nausea I surged to my feet and managed to make it half way to the window before falling to the floor against my will. I had just enough time to hear the uncertain uttering of my name over the sound system before I blacked out again. _Ain't life fun? _**Sigh**.

When next I came to consciousness I realised that I was once again in the uncomfortable old army cot. And my head was still hurting, but didn't seem as bad. _That's a relief_. I raised my hand to check the bump but was hampered by the presence of something cold on my forehead. Funny how until I felt it with my hand I didn't realise the cold on my forehead; isn't it?

"You're awake then?" came a voice to my left. A nice soft voice that wasn't amplified and coming through a speaker in the wall.

Sighing I replied, "Awake? Yes. Functioning? Probably not. What's going on?" It was more groan than whisper as far as I could tell. I had my eyes closed still, so when I turned my head to see who my captor was I only encountered the inside of my eye lids.

"We only want what's best for you," my captor told me. He sounded familiar, but my eyes were preventing me from confirming the fact.

"Who's we?"

"Me and everyone else."

"Right," I sighed and started to sit up, but a firm hand appeared on my shoulder, pushing me back down onto the uber-uncomfortable bed.

"We know what you're trying to do," the speaker told me.

"Oh really? That's nice, at least one of us knows. Mind filling me in?" I couldn't help but be a bit sarcastic, being kidnapped just seemed to do that to me. I think I got it from my mother.

"Don't play dumb, Peigi, we know exactly what you're like. You've always been like this."

"Who's playing?" I asked. "could you be a little more specific? I've always been lie what?"

"You're afraid of commitment."

"I am not. I'm totally committed."

"Yeah," the guy said, "Committed to a mental institution by the sounds of things."

"I'm committed to my work!" I exclaimed, wincing when it caused pain to shoot through my head. "I've never missed a day of work. Not even when I had a broken leg."

"That's not what I meant. You have commitment issues in the realm of relationships."

I opened my eyes a fraction of an inch to find the speaker leaning against the wall at the foot of the cot. I studied him hard for a moment or two, trying to make out his features through my pain induced haze. It looked to me like one of the Rangemen, but why would they want to kidnap me? On the other hand, why would anyone else want to interfere in my personal life?

"What does it matter to you?" I asked.

Finally, he decided to look up and I was shocked to find that my captor was none other than... _What the fuck?_ _Lester Santos? Holy Crap. I can't believe LESTER had kidnapped me!! What on earth was going on? WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO!!_

"Peigi, calm down," he said. "Everything's okay."

He made a move to come closer to me but I sat up abruptly and moved as far up the other end of the cot as I could. "Stay. Away. From me," I gasped out.

He nodded shortly and leaned back against the wall a solemn expression on his face. "We had no choice," explained apologetically.

"What do you mean you had no choice?" I seethed. "There is always the choice."

"It's complicated," he sighed.

I sighed too. "Tell me about it."

_Sorry it's a bit short. I had to get my mind back into the frame of creative writing rather than stupid, evil, disgustingly foul essay __**Shudder**__Some reviews would be nice to let me know that you're reading and enjoying it and also to make sure I don't go crazy before the next chapter is written. __**Then what would you do?**__ I know, I know, it's terribly horrific to think about so I'll let you get to that reviewing now (Hint Hint)_


	11. Ultimatum

_What's this? Two chapters in two days? This hasn't happened in a while. Well, guess what. My schedule just opened up. I am almost officially on holidays for seven weeks. I just have to pass this final exam (piss easy) and finish an assignment (how hard can a fill in the blanks be?) and then I'm free to do as I like until late July. Isn't that exciting. The answer, if you like my story, is an obvious yes, because it means that I now actually have the time to write. YAY!! Of course, if you don't like my story, phooey on you, because I'm gonna be updating it anyway. _

_And now for your enjoyment... or not, I don't mind which category you're in... the next chapter!! TA DA!!_

**Chapter 11**

Time is irrelevant when you're unconscious, which, I suppose, is why it felt like it had been days since the incident at the back of the Police station... you know. The one involving my head and something hard?... In actual fact it had only been a matter of a couple of hours. Nice to know in the long run I guess, but not overly useful when you're still locked up in an unfamiliar room with a goose egg on your forehead being refused any kind of painkillers. My head was back to killing me, just so's you know, and if it weren't for the outrageous amount of agony radiating from that bump I would probably have been a tad more alarmed by my current situation. The fact that the room wasn't_ totally_ unfamiliar seemed to have a calming effect on me.

I willed the pain to go away mentally, and was surprised to find that, while I had never been able to master the skill during those weird-ass workshops we had all been required to attend last year, it worked perfectly now. I guess I just needed the right incentive.

With my mind cleared and the pain staved off, if only temporarily, I began to reflect on the events I could remember since being hit on the head. They were all a little hazy. Like the camera had been out of focus or something... except I didn't have a camera to watch the events on. If I did it probably would have made a lot more sense right now, because all I could remember was a huge pain, which I attributed to the bump on my head, a few sarcastic comments from yours truly and a sense of shock and betrayal. The words "It's complicated," kept ringing through my head, but I couldn't pin point the voice which accompanied them. It was familiar but I just couldn't make the connection. Oh, don't get me wrong, I wasn't completely oblivious to the happenings. I know that I had woken up twice already and collapsed both times; the first on my way to the window where I had been instructed to stand and the second after sitting up to get away from my captor, whom was probably the reason for the agonising pain and the sense of shock and betrayal _and _the recipient of my sarcastic comments.

I wish I could remember who it was.

Fortunately for me, I suppose, I had not yet fallen over, collapsed, blacked out or passed out this time around, but I still had to make sure I didn't try to stand up too fast. I now lay flat on my back under the window with my arms out to either side of my and legs spread wide; my thinking position. The guys all laughed at me for it, but it really helped... usually. I let out a long heavy breath as the lock on the door clicked, the only warning I got before it opened and someone entered. I didn't bother looking up. It probably would have just caused more pain than was necessary. Instead I continued to stare at the single 'x' on the ceiling above me. It made me wonder why it was there and distracted me from the more important issues I should have been trying to work out at the time. I get distracted easily when there is nothing to keep me on task, and since I currently had no task it was even easier to distract me.

I heard the silent footsteps approach from the door as the lock clicked again. Slowly, I used the bar attached to the wall above me to pull myself into a sitting position and glared at the intruder. It was at that moment that I decided I was dreaming this entire situation up. This was all a pigment of my imagination. It had to be, I mean, why else would my captor be-

"Emmet?" I asked uncertainly. I hadn't seen his face, but I would know that stance anywhere, it had been intruding my vision since I was eight. It was kind of slouchy with his arms crossed over his chest. I looked him up and down, willing him to raise his head so I could either confirm or deny (preferably deny) it was him. One look at his tattered red converse sneakers, however and I sure positive beyond a shadow of doubt that the, dare I say, man standing before me was my younger brother, Emmet. "Fuck," I uttered under my breath before adding louder, "They got you too?"

At this point he finally raised his eyes to meet mine. His expression was sheepish as he shook his head. "No, Pei-Pei, they didn't get me, I got them."

"What? I don't understand. You were in Australia. What are you doing here? How did you get them? What-?"

"Peigi, it's in your best interest to shut up and listen right now. There's a lot that you don't understand, I know, but I can't fill you in if you keep shooting questions at me."

I stared at him blankly for a moment before opening my mouth to ask yet another question. It died in my throat as I saw him look me over, shudder and turn away. Confused, I too took a look at myself. _What the Random?_ I was in only my bra and panties. What worried me most was the fact I knew for a fact that these were not the ones I had donned this morning before leaving for work. I shuddered to think who had changed me and got a cold sinking feeling in my stomach as I considered what else could have happened while they were changing me. "Uh, Em?" I asked tentatively.

"Yeah, Pei-Pei?" he replied quietly.

"Why am I only in my underwear? And why is it not the underwear I was wearing when I was hit on the head outside the police station?"

"There's a perfectly logical explanation," he stated, shoulders heaving in a sigh.

"Well?"

"Well. We figured if you were only in your underwear then you'd be more reluctant to make a break for it."

"Um... okay. But... uh... Why not the underwear I was already wearing?"

"You were wearing a crop top and boy shorts, Pei. That's not that different to what you run in. We needed to make you indisposed so that you wouldn't run away. So I had Ella get you're skimpiest set of underwear and change you into it."

Well that was a relief, at least it wasn't some pervert guy that had gotten me naked and dressed me up in my sexies. Hang on... did he just say he got- "Ella?"

"Yes, Ella. You know, the lovely lady who takes care of Dad's building and bakes the to die for cookies?"

"I know who Ella is, you idiot. But why did Ella agree to it? Surely you would have had to have told her that I was kidnapped."

"She already knew. We've been planning this for months."

"You and Ella?"

"Me and the guys. And Ella."

"What have you been planning for months, exactly?"

"This entire operation." He was deliberately avoiding giving me full answers, just like every other time I, or mum or dad interrogated him. This boy would never change, at least, not in my eyes anyway.

"What operation would that be?"

"The one that we're currently acting on."

I gave a frustrated little sigh and balled my fists at my sides, trying desperately not to lash out at him. "Mind explaining exactly what it entails?"

"Do I look like a clichéd super villain to you?" he asked.

Through gritted teeth I uttered, "Humour me."

"You'd better tell her, Emmet, she's looking ready to bite your head off," came a voice from the speakers on the wall. "And I don't doubt for a second that she'd be able to manage it in one bite."

Emmet chuckled and turned around moving to sit next to me. We both sat silently, leaning against the wall for a good long moment before he began his tale. It wasn't the best of tales, that is to say, there were no car chases or blown up buildings, but it was a damn nasty plan they had put together against me... Well... in aid of me, if their intentions were to be believed.

One of the guys had caught Sean ring shopping a few months back and naturally assumed that he was getting ready to pop the question. Of course, the guys being the guys they are, and know that I was the way I was... am? They knew that I would be and I quote "idiotic and tell the poor guy that I had to consider my answer thoroughly." So the guys got together and devised this devil of a plan. All the variables of the situation were predicted. Most of them anyway. They figured that Sean would do the right thing and ask Dad's permission first, which he had, three days in advance. Of course, Mum would weasel this information out of Dad the next day and immediately tell Ella in a fit of excitement. Ella, who was never one to keep secrets from her husband, divulged the information to him, who in turn mentioned it casually to one of the guys while fixing something or other in the building.

That was the way it had actually played out, but made sure that if anyone were to find out they were to report it to the group immediately. The cold hard facts of the case were that Mum would definitely get Dad to tell her, and would then be so excited about it that she would have to tell _someone._ This gave the guys a little less than forty-eight hours to pull everything together, including flying my brother in and making sure that the proposed keeping chamber, which I was currently sitting half naked in, was available.

When Emmet was finished telling me all this, he stood abruptly and excused himself say that he had check on... "stuff".

"I'm kinda hungry," I told whoever was monitoring my chamber. "Thanks to you guys I missed my lunch date."

"Would that be why Inez Musso keeps calling your cell?" came the reply.

"Yes, that would be why. I was supposed to meet her at eleven for lunch. What time is it now?"

"Two. Would you like me to get you something to eat?"

"Much appreciated," I said in my best, 'na duh' voice.

"I'll see what Ella left in the fridge for you."

A few moments later a bottom section in the door was moved out of the way and a hand slid a plate into the room. I sat back against the wall after retrieving it and began to dig into Ella's wonderful salad roll. Just as I swallowed my last bite a whirring began somewhere in above. I glanced about in concern for a moment, before locating the television that was descending from the ceiling. "What's going on?" I asked, knowing that it was frowned upon to allow the hostage to watch cartoons and therefore knowing that this was not the reason for the television.

"We thought you might like to catch up on a few things that you've missed," announced a voice.

The screen came to life and I sucked in a breath at the image it revealed. Someone was gonna lose their testies if I ever got out of here. How _dare _they?!

I watched in horrified silence as Sean struggled against the shackles that bound him to the wall. There was an egg on his forehead that looked to be turning a nasty shade of ouch and he too was in only a pair of briefs. A pair of _low riding_ briefs. I felt my cheeks grow hot and imagined they were growing red as I realised I was staring at his neat little package. _Get a grip on yourself Peigi,_ I told myself_, There are more important matters that you have to deal with right now._

"Why did you kidnap Sean as well?" I asked aloud.

There was no answer for a long moment, making me think that whoever was monitoring me had left the screen unattended. Finally, Emmet voice came over the sound system. "We had to have some kind of way to make you co-operate."

"By kidnapping my boyfriend and chaining him half naked to the wall?" I was infuriated. The fact that I was talking to my brother again allowed me to let my anger show.

"If you weren't being such a girl about things he'd be your fiancé, Pei. You might wanna do some of that thinking you told him you needed to do, because we're gonna need a definite decision real soon."

"What happens if I don't make a decision 'real soon'?" I asked wearily.

There was no answer. My gaze drifted back to the TV where Sean was still struggling. He let out an roar of frustration that made me wince, then the screen went blank again. As it slowly returned to its hiding place I let out a deep, gut wrenching groan and dropped my head to rest in my hands. _What on earth had I gotten myself into?_ I surged to my feet and began to pace the width of the room agitatedly. I had to figure out all this stuff in my head that was preventing me from doing what it seemed everyone wanted to happen.

Why were they so concerned with my personal life? Didn't I have the right to say no if I didn't want to marry him?

_Is that what you want?_ The little voice in my head asked. _Do you want to say no to Sean? Do you want to break up with him and live your life with someone else?_

My on subconscious shocked me with its... thoughts... Of course I didn't want to break up with Sean! I loved him more than words could explain. I just didn't know how to say yes to him. I knew I _wanted _to say yes to him... didn't I?

_I don't know,_ said my conscience_. You seem awful uncertain about the whole thing, maybe you're better off just saying no and leaving the entire situation behind you._

"Emmet?" I called hesitantly as I realised that it was going to take a fair while to resolve this inner battle of mine. WHY IS MY SUBCONSCIOUS SO RELUCTANT?

"Yeah Pei? Come to a decision?"

"Um, not exactly. What happens if I don't make my decision in a timely manner?"

"It's a simple explanation as to your options here, Sis. You either choose to keep him and we let you both go to make sweet Pagan love for the rest of you both shall live. Or we do something that you will regret for the rest of your life... however long that shall be." His last little add on was loaded, I could tell.

"And um... what would that be?"

"Peigi, Sonar was made for you. And you were made for Sonar. Neither of you are going to be anywhere near this happy with anyone else. So, either you to get together, or we make sure that neither of you will ever be with anyone else. It's you're decision."

"What do you mean, you'll make sure?"

A different voice jumped in before Emmet had a chance to reply. "If there's one thing we've learnt from your father, Peigi, it's how to make things look like accidents when they weren't."

That didn't sound promising. No siree. That didn't sound promising at all. "You wouldn't do that," I stammered, my voice shaking almost as much as my hands. "Think of Mum and Dad's reactions."

"It would be an accident, Peigi. He would have no reason to blame us."

I gulped and returned to the problem of conscious versus subconscious to try and come to some kind of an agreement. Preferably one that did end in either me or Sean dying. That would be bad. I suppose the logical thing would have been to say yes then and there, knowing that if I didn't say yes I'd be faced with death. But you try talking logic to my brain and see where it gets you. Not very far, I can tell you that much. Logic is not a strong argument as far as my noggin is concerned. It always had to work things out the hard way.


	12. They'll Rant and They'll Roar

_No reviews can keep me from finishing this story. And that includes receiving no reviews, which coincidentally happened last chapter. Here's another chapter. Hopefully it's better received. Enjoy._

**Chapter 12**

_Alright, Peigi,_ I coached myself, _the time of mulling things over must come to an end. Both your lives are on the line. You need to make a decision once and for all. _I threw my hands in the air as I continued to pace the room. Window, door, bed, wall, window, door, bed, wall window, door... This was absolutely ridiculous. They can't threaten me with death if I refuse to marry Sean. It's illogical! What kind of person would intimidate someone with death if they didn't want to join with a guy in holy matrimony? _The guys that Dad hires, that's who,_ I told myself unhappily.

I continued to pace, unaware of anything other than my thoughts for what felt like days. I knew that the obvious choice was to accept the proposal to save both our lives, but how could I make that decision when my heart was still undecided. The question that played most on my mind though, was _why_ it was still undecided. Surely having known him for so long and dating him for a good portion of that time, I would know _one way or another_ whether I was ready to commit to him. For Crissake.

_Why is this such a hard decision for me? I KNOW I love him. I've loved him for... well, it seems like FOREVER! What is wrong with me? _I took a moment to reflect on my life to this point and realise that this is everyone's fault but my own. Most of my life was filled with lies from the time I was... four? Somewhere around there, anyway. It all started the day Mum called Uncle Paul anal retentive. I can't believe I believed half the crap they came out with, and it wasn't just my parents, all the "Merry Men" seemed bent on lying to me for their own amusement.

I guess they didn't realise at the time that I would one day grow up and learn that everything they told me was wrong. How many lies had I endured during my childhood? Too many, that's for sure. Who lies to a child when they're asking questions to do with their homework? It's a wonder my parents weren't caught by child services. Wait, what am I thinking? This is _my parents_ they're practically superheroes! Or maybe they're more like super_villains_. Either way, they practically have secret identities.

Oh, right... digressing... _again._ FOCUS! I need to come up with a plan to get myself out of this. And Sean. I mustn't forget Sean.

Poor Sean. They shouldn't have kidnapped him. It's not his fault that I'm such a nimrod. That's it. I have to make my decision. That's the only way I'll ever get out of this.

I stopped pacing and sank to the floor. Aware that someone was watching me. "WHY ME?" I screamed at the ceiling. "WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE SUCH A LIFE?"

"I have a million come backs for that, Pei, and you won't like a single one of them. Could try not yelling? It makes the sound equipment spike."

"Emmet! Get your ass in here now."

"I don't think that's a good idea right at the moment. Besides, we're kind of busy. Sonar's being difficult."

"What do you mean, he's being difficult? What are you doing to him?"

"I'm sorry, Pei, that information is classified."

"The hell it is!" I was suddenly on my feet once more. Pacing the room again. Window, door, bed, wall, window, door, bed, wall Window, door, bed, wall, window, door, bed, wall Window, door, bed, wall, window... "I am a whole six year older than you, Emmet. I was a good older sister, wasn't I? Never woke you up when you were a baby. Helped you sneak into the cookies. Shared my icey pole when yours fell in the dirt. I even did your biology assignment for you once. Why are you doing this to me?"

Emmet made a sound like he was scoffing before making his reply. "Think of all the times you lied to me. You told me there were liquid dogs, Pei. And that if I peed in the desert a tiny rhinoceros would jab it's horn inside my happy place! A RHINO! For years I was afraid to pee even in the back yard for fear that the rhinos had followed us home after that vacation. How can you possibly class that as being a good older sister?"

"Em. Be reasonable. You weren't the only victim of lies. Mum, Dad and the guys have been lying to me since I was four."

"But they've stopped now, haven't they?" Emmet asked, obviously trying to prove a point. "They _still_ don't include me in their jokes. They look at me like I'm a little kid. I'm not a little kid anymore!"

"I know Em. They still pull their jokes on you. I didn't think it bothered you so much."

"Well it does. I can't trust any of them. Not one. Except Sean. Sean's never done anything wrong by me. Or you. He's never once lied to you. Never. And every day you put your life in his hands. If that isn't trust I don't know what is."

"I have to trust all the guys. I'm not always partnered with Sean."

"Not in the field, no. But in relationships I can't think of anyone better for you that Sean. Why are you procrastinating so much over this?"

"When you've been lied to as much as we have, Em, you don't take a lot for granted. I guess at some unconscious level I didn't think he was being serious. Thought maybe he was going to propose and then as soon as I said yes take it back. Like when I used to ask if you wanted a lick of my ice cream and then 'psych' you."

"Sean would never do that to you, Pei-Pei. He _loves_ you!"

"How do you know?"

"Are you kidding?" Emmet laughed, easing my nerves just that little bit. "I've seen the love struck way he gazes at you. It's embarrassing."

"Why are you and all the guys forcing me to marry him?"

"Pei, listen to me. You want this. It's obvious. You've been looking at wedding rings and doodling Peigi Brown for years. I can't remember the last person you went out with that wasn't Sean. AND Sean has never once called me 'Kiddo'!"

This caused me to laugh. "That's a real deal clincher for you, isn't it little brother?"

"Of course. Furthermore, he's started crying when you mentioned that you thought he was going to 'psych' you."

I'm pretty sure a mask of confusion fell over my face, it's sure as hell how I felt on the inside. My mouth opened and closed several times as I tried to voice my confusion, effectively making me look like a goldfish. I know this, because they guys insisted on playing the footage for several hours over and over to show me just how stupid I looked especially at what happened next.

"Em, Wha-. Um... What... do you... mean when you say he started... crying?" I stammered.

"He's sitting in his cell blubbering."

"He-- He can here me?"

"Yeah. He's got a live feed from your cell complete with picture of all surveillance camera angles."

"You said he was being difficult."

"We solved that issue by giving him the surveillance feed."

"I've come to my decision, but I want to tell Sean first." After a moment's thought I added. "Face to face. With no surveillance."

I know. It's a lot to ask that a bunch of surveillance security guys not record, but well, I had t try, didn't I?

"I'll be right in, Peigi," came Sean's voice over the speakers.

Can we say 'fish out of water' because that's what type of animal I was impersonating just as the door opened and Sean entered.


	13. Ah, Sweet, um, Decievement?

_I know, it took a while, but distraction are very prominent in my life at the moment. I'm sorry if you got impatient with me, but here's the next instalment. Enjoy. _

**_Chapter 13_**

He stood uncertainly in the door way for a moment, obviously trying to decided whether or not it was a wise idea to close it or not. Finally, he pushed the door until it clicked shut, but made no move to come further into the room. His eyes were red rimmed, evidence of the tears Emmet had told me he had shed, and he was gnawing on his bottom lip nervously. I had really hurt him, I could see that now. He wasn't even looking at me. He was staring at the lighting fixtures above my head. _Oh, I felt REAL loved._

"Sean, listen," I started only to be cut off by a shake of his head. He was still staring at the damn light fixtures. "But I-."

"Shh."

Utterly speechless in my bewilderment now, I just stared at him, staring at the lighting fixtures. I could tell by the tingling sensation in my spine that the guys in the comm. Room were watching me, watching Sean, watching the lighting fixtures. Who was watching them... God? If there is a God. I was beginning to doubt it at the moment.

After a few more silent moments there was a soft _pfft_ and the lights went out. A smile immediately curled on Sean's gorgeous lips as he turned to look at me at last. Even in the half light I could see the twinkle in his eyes as he crossed the room and took me into his arms. I was confused, yes, but the feel of his strong limbs encircling my body felt like home. He held me tight to him for a long time while I tried to comprehend the position we were in.

"What just happened?" I finally managed to squeak out against his bare chest. It was unbelievably bare and felt sooooo good under my hands all smooth and vibrating... _Vibrating?_ I glared up at him and discovered he was half weeping half laughing. _Prick. _"What?"

He calmed himself down and kissed my forehead. "I programmed the computers in the comm. room so that the backup generator would be disconnected and the power would go off not long after I entered your cell," he explained, brushing a lock of hair out of my eyes. "This way we're guaranteed privacy, just like you wanted."

_Dumbstruck_, that sounds like an appropriate description for right now. "But-... I-I... They-... You-... How?"

"Does any of that really matter? I'm here. You're here. We're alone. Have I mentioned I love you?" His face broke into an earth shattering grin and my knees just about buckled.

"I believe you have," I whispered. "And to show you just how much that means to me, I'm prepared to marry you."

"Is that so?" Sean asked, twining a piece of my hair idly around one of his fingers.

"It sure is." My heart was fluttering madly in my chest at this point and my breathing was becoming a problem. I wasn't sure I would be able to stay upright for much longer. I'd finally done it. I'd overcome the fear in my head. I'd defeated the demon within. The demon I was hardly even aware was there.

Sean must have sensed my relief and weakness, as he wrapped his arms tighter around me and pulled me into a searing, toe curling kiss. "I'm glad you came to your senses Pei-Pei. I'm not sure I would have been able to live without you."

"I don't think the guys would have let you live without me, or me without for that matter. I don't think we give them enough credit."

"I think we give them plenty of credit," Sean replied, nibbling on my ear. The action sent foreign sensations down to a previously very dormant part of my anatomy and I shivered. "This was a stupid plan your brother came up with," he continued, brushing his fingertips lightly over the bump still evident on my forehead. "But I'm thankful for it. Do you think he would mind being my Best Man?"

"But I wanted him to be my Maid of Honour." I frowned and we both burst into laughter at the same time. "Maybe we could get Ella to make him a special outfit that's half dress half suit," I giggled after a moment. This only increased the velocity of his laughter tenfold and mine in response to his reaction. We were still chortling when there was a ruckus on the other side of the door. To the trained ear, it sounded like a bunch of full groan ex-mil men pawing at the door in an attempt to invoke out sympathy. The noise abruptly stopped a few moments later and was replaced with a loud beating sound, and a lot of exertion. They wanted in, how sweet. "How long do you reckon the door will hold up under the pressure?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Long enough for me to have my wicked way with you in the darkness and privacy of this secluded cell," he grinned. A gasp escaped me, one of abject horror. He knew my stance on sex before marriage. I'd given him the low down long ago. Surely he couldn't expect me to let him- "Relax, Pei, I'll respect your virtue." His grin widened some more. "That doesn't mean I'm not gonna make it look like I didn't."

My eyes felt like saucers they were so big. I couldn't believe what he was suggesting. "Sean, my _brother_ is out there."

"I know." To my astonishment the grin grew even more. "It'll be hilarious, don't you think?"

"Loads of," I said half heartedly.

The grin was abruptly lost as he took in my reaction. His eyes belatedly calculated all the words he had just spoken and my response to them. Understanding dawned a few moments later and he nodded. "Sorry, I guess I got a bit ahead of myself. I just wanted to _really _give them something to talk about, ya know? For so long it's been the constant comments on my reserve in the... intimacy department. They don't get that I would do anything for you. I love you more than anything else in the world." He paused a moment to kiss my neck below my ear. "If you don't want to appear that way, then I can deal. Your will is my own."

I let out a short bark of laughter that had him staring wide eyed at me. "You sound like a Hallmark card," I told him. "Where do you come up with this sap? Muss me up and make look hot and bothered, dammit, I wanna see some shocked looks when they break through that door."

"Are you sure?" He glance nervously toward the door then back at me, hope in his eyes.

"Very."

The grin returned stronger, if that is possible, than before and he immediately locked his lips on mine. When we finally broke apart I was moaning, wanting more. He laughed at my reaction and moved on to adjust my clothes (or lack thereof) into a suitable dishevelled state. He ruffled my hair a bit, then made a small tear in his own underpants. "Drag you nails down my chest and back," he instructed.

"Why?" I wondered aloud.

"Because I'm that good," he replied.

"I should hope so, I'm giving up my virtue for this."

We knew that the room was not soundproof, so we gave them a bit of a show once we looked the part, it was my idea. I'd listened to sparring sessions before when I couldn't see them, and they always sounded slightly erotic, even to my own, very sheltered, ears. So we wrestled, grunting and moaning as we collided with each other and tried to gain the upper hand. I had to admit, this deceiving business was actually quite fun. When he finally managed to pin me to the ground we were both layered in a light sheen of sweat. Our bodies slid against each other and I could feel how hard he was. For me. That made me smile and wonder how soon Mum and Ella could organise the wedding for. I could hardly wait for the really thing if this is how happy I was pretending.

I licked his jaw line, causing him to moan in response and shift just a little. I flashed him a wicked grin and yanked at his briefs until they were free from his body and threw them over my head into the abyss. He growled and bit my shoulder and I screamed his name. His answering howl as I kneed him on the groin was almost comical, but probably very believable from the other side of the door.

With another kiss on my lips he uttered a soft, panted, "Thanks Pei."

I kissed him back earnestly, and replied, "Just you wait for the real thing."

_Please review, you know I love them._


	14. Resolution

_The final chapter. This is it. Sorry for the long wait. Blame assignments._

_**Chapter 14**_

"How long until the power comes back on and we're ambushed?" I asked in barely more than a whisper as Sean rolled to the side.

"A few minutes, but I doubt they're likely to actually open that door before we're ready to come out. That was pretty hot."

I beamed and kissed him yet again. "I love you."

"Yeah," he replied, "I think we all just established that."

At that moment there was a sudden din on the other side of the door. A collective gasp emitted from the guys gathered there and I distinctly heard my mother's outraged yelling. I groaned. Of all the times for her to come to the rescue she had to choose the very moment when I had just finished pretending to do the dirty with my fiancé. A thrill ran down my spine as I thought that word. _Sean is my fiancé!_

"WHAT ARE YOU ALL DOING TO MY BABY? YOU RELEASE HER RIGHT NOW!! PEIGI? PEIGI, I'M GONNA GET YOU OUT OF- _holycrapyou'retheMerryMen_..." The last was said very fast before she trailed off into oblivion.

"Hi Mom," I heard Emmet said timidly from very near the door.

"Emmet?" she sounded incredulous, which I suppose is understandable, given that the last she hear he was in Australia. "When did you get back?"

"Um, yesterday? Sorry I haven't called, I've been busy."

"Busy doing what? Kidnapping your sister with the help of your father's employees? What were you thinking? Don't expect any protection from me when she unleashes her wrath on you."

"Maybe you should grab the sheet and wrap it around you," I suggested in a whisper to Sean as I sat up and attempted to smooth down my hair. It was times like these that I was thankful I had not inherited my mother's curls. Any kind of taming at this time would have been utterly impossible. _Thank God for Dad's ultra straight locks._ "Hide your jocks while you're at it, that might be a bit too much for mum to see when she comes in. And she _will_ come in, you know that right?" I crossed to the door and listened for a moment, it seemed oddly quiet, so I knocked on it and called, "Could we have our clothes back please?"

"WE??" mum screamed. "WHO ELSE ARE YOU KEEPING CAPTIVE? WHAT KIND OF OPERATION IS THIS? I HAVE HALF A MIND TO HAVE YOU ALL PUT ON PIG DUTY FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIVES! JUST WAIT UNTIL RANGER HEARS ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE BEEN DOING!"

"Wait's over," came Dad's deceptively calm voice from further away, presumably the doorway. "Release Peigi and Sean now before you're all fired."

"They can't let us out until the power comes back on," Sean told him through the door. "It should be another minute or so by my calculations."

"Sean?" Mum asked, unsure now.

"We're okay, Mrs Manoso."

"We're enganged Mum!!" I squealed in delight. "I said yes!!"

The lights came on, the air conditioning whirring to life and we heard the door release sound. I braced myself for the impact. The first person through the door was, of course, my mother, who grabbed me in a bear hug, tears streaming down her face. Dad was in next, surveying the scene with wary eyes. He locked onto Sean in his makeshift toga and gave a snort of laughter. They did the manly slap-on-the-back-hug-thing and Dad told him, "Welcome to the family son, you'll fit right in."

"Was there any doubt?" Mum asked.

**~*~**

"Can't I just have one small piece?" Emmet complained.

We were all sitting around the dining room table in the seventh floor apartment eating cake in celebration of my engagement to Sean. Well, Mum, Ella and I were eating cake. Dad was grudgingly accepting the odd bite of Mum's and Sean had a few smudges of icing on his face from where I forced a few bites into his gob. Bobby had a bowl of unsweetened breakfast cereal as his celebratory snack. Emmet was being punished for his behaviour. Quite thoroughly, I might add.

"No," Dad said. "And stop asking. You sound like a little whiner."

"His is a little whiner," I reminded him. "Remember the time he stubbed his toe? Claimed he couldn't walk for a week."

Sean laughed and added, "What about the time he wasn't allowed to come with us to the amusement park? He phoned us up while we were there to complain about how unfair it was."

Emmet crossed his arms and huffed out a sigh. "I did not! I was calling to make sure you knew that you had to be home for dinner. Mum asked me to."

"Doesn't change the fact that you complained," I told him waving my cake toward him temptingly before forking some into my mouth. "Maybe you should figure out a lesson you've learned from all this."

"How about, I-will-let-my-parents-know-when-I-will-be-returning-to-the-country?" Mum suggested.

"Or, I-won't-meddle-in-the-affairs-of-others?" Sean commented.

"That wasn't just me," Emmet countered. "It was the entire company."

"Not quite," Dad spoke up. "Neither your mother, nor I knew of it. And neither did Bobby."

"How come Ella gets cake? She was in on it too!" Emmet was determined to dig himself into more trouble.

"That may be true," Mum said, "But I'm sure she only agreed because she didn't want either of them to get hurt and she knew that if it was left up to you goofballs they would have been."

"And I didn't want them to starve," Ella added around a mouthful of cake.

"I wasn't in on it either," came a new voice from the doorway. We all turned abruptly to meet the gaze of Benjamin.

"How'd you get up here?" Dad demanded, standing and positioning himself between Benjamin and the rest of the people in the room. Sean and Bobby were quick to follow suit. "You need a key fob to gain access to this floor."

"Do you really think that there isn't a way around that, Ranger?" he retaliated.

"Of course there is, but it's not easy."

"That's beside the point," Benjamin insisted. "What you _should _be focussing your attention on is the fact that your own daughter has defied direct orders."

Dad glanced sharply over his shoulder at me. "What is he talking about, Peigi?"

"I took on some files from Uncle Vinnie yesterday," I explained. "I was really pissed off, at myself mostly, and I needed something that I could let my anger out on. Vinnie really needed the help..." Dad was looking at me funny. "What?"

"Why did you go to Vinnie?"

"Because if I came to you for files I would have had to tell you why and probably take a partner. I couldn't take the risk of insulting, or worse, injuring, one of our men in my fury. And I was so confused about the whole proposal thing that I wanted to steer as clear of Rangeman as I could. Vinnie was the obvious answer. Why the feud?"

There was a silence that was filled with unspoken questions and answers from all of us before Dad finally sighed, shot Ben with enough volts to knock him out for a while and sat back down at the table. "It was a few years ago."

"Dad, it was FIVE years ago. I know. I've kept count. Yesterday was the first time I had seen Inez in five years. Now on with it."

"What did I tell you about addressing me at work?" he asked sternly.

I grinned and replied, "We're not at work. This is a private apartment."

"Right, glad we cleared that up." He seemed awkward for a moment.

"They had musical differences," Emmet piped up when Dad was silent for a while. "Dad wanted to go in a more mature direction, and Vinnie was a big fat stinky poo head."

"Emmet," I sighed exasperatedly. "Where do you get these things?"

"I have a little book of excuses," he shrugged.

"He's actually half right," Dad grudgingly admitted. "I wanted to fully combine the two companies, but Vinnie wasn't having it, even after I explained all the benefits."

"What he means by 'combine the two companies,'" Emmet interjected, "Is 'take over Vincent Plum Bail Bonds so that he was the head of the entire operation and could boss Vinnie around.'"

Mum gasped. "Is this true?"

A sheepish look mad it's way onto Dad face and I couldn't help but laugh. "In a manner of speaking I suppose it is," he said.

"Pardon me for saying so, Mr. Manoso," Sean began, "But wouldn't it have just been a lot easier to sever the ties between the two companies and get your own bonding license?"

"Why do you think I did what I did?"

"Point," he acquiesced.

"So ultimately, it doesn't really matter if I'm working for both of you," I said hopefully.

"Yes it does. If you're tired from chasing his low lifes you'll end up messing up on the job here. That was my reason for the ban. I knew Vinnie would try to get a few of the guys to pull doubles."

"In anycase," Ella interrupted from the doorway that led to the kitchen. I looked in her direction to find her holding a bottle of champagne. "Congratulations to Sean and Peigi." She had sufficiently ended the conversation and rectified the occasion. Glasses of alcohol were distributed immediately and continued to be circulated until Mum and I were giggling like school girls and Emmet, the only sober one (though not by choice), was sitting in the corner surrounded by the men, with is arms crossed as he listened to there senseless talk about who-the-hell-can-be-sure.

Sean staggered over to my spot on the floor and sat down behind me so that his legs were on either side of mine, and kissed the nape of my neck. "I always love... dew, Peigi," he hiccoughed.

I let out my one millionth giggle and replied. "I love dew too."

THE END-FILLED END

_Thank you all for playing along. This will probably be my final Peigi story, but I think I still have a few lies to add to "Great Lies To Tell Small Kids" so maybe there'll be some of those in the future, maybe not. We'll see how we go. Hope you all liked it. Drop me a line and let me know._

Bec


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